It's Not All Sparkles and Knives
by wehaveaproblem
Summary: So Gale gets this new girlfriend, and Katniss thinks this is a giant issue. But she soon discovers she has bigger problems because she starts stealing knives from Peacekeepers while sleepwalking. And to make matters worse, the reaping is coming up, and it's Prim's first year... (Katniss's narration is in normal text, Gale's is in italics)
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: So here's our first story. It's a more entertaining version of the Hunger Games. Welcome to the dark side. Katniss's perspective is in normal text, and Gale's perspective is in italics._

* * *

**Chapter One: Crazy Katniss Plays "Nice"**

So Gale has this new girlfriend.

I don't even know her name. She's blonde, one of those typical pretty, merchant girls. I've never met her, so she could be incredibly nice and wonderful and Gale could be in the best relationship in the world, but I honestly don't care about Blondey (as I've so affectionately started to refer to her in my head) at all. She's caused a giant problem in my life, and that I cannot forgive.

Said major problem is Gale's punctuality.

She's basically destroyed it. In the month that Gale and Blondey have been dating, he has been getting progressively later to our meeting spot. Yesterday he was actually an hour or two late. I'm waiting for him to just not show up one day.

I've tried to play nice and believe his lame excuses ("There were Peacekeepers swarming the square, didn't you see?" "_Of course, _Gale. Of course I saw the Peacekeepers."), but I'm beyond that now. Blondey is stealing away my hunting partner, and Prim's too thin for me to ditch him.

Good hunting partners are hard to come across, after all.

Besides, Gale's been my best friend for four years now. I can't say I'd handle losing him too well.

Gale promised he'd be on time tonight, but the joke's on him because I'm going to be a little late today. I've got some… _hunting_ of my own to take care of.

/

_Damn Katniss and her controlling behavior. _

_She doesn't get like this often, but when she goes on a control binge, she makes me aware of it _every moment of my life. _Most of the time, hunting in the forest with her is an enjoyable experience, and I actually look forward to it, but lately, she's made it a few painful hours of my life._

_Okay, sure, I've been pretty late the past few days, but doesn't she understand that there are other things going on in my life besides hunting? _

_Katniss is making it really hard for me to want to even talk to her right now, but I've known her for way too long for this to ruin our friendship. We've survived harder times than this, and my girlfriend is the thing that sets her off? Seriously, four years of hunting together, and she won't allow me to have a girlfriend? _

_Well, she better be happy because I'm actually going to be on time today._

_Something in the square catches my eye, and I recognize Katniss immediately. I'm momentarily puzzled over why she's in the square, but then I realize that she's cornering someone in an alleyway._

_And that someone is my girlfriend. _

/

"Katniss, what the _hell _are you doing?"

I take a step away from Gale's girlfriend, but I make sure not to let her out my punching range in case I need to put her in her place again. Lucky for me, his girlfriend looks so intimidated by me that she stays leaned back against the brick wall of the alleyway, seemingly paralyzed by my threats.

I direct my attention over to Gale, crossing my arms over my chest. "Oh, lovely timing, Gale," I say bitterly. "It appears you can be on time for _some _things."

Gale's eyes narrow at my comment, but he just repeats his question. "What the hell are you doing?"

I look back over at Blondey and offer my most terrifyingly joyful smile. "We were just having a chat."

Gale looks at me suspiciously, and, if his girlfriend was any less of an annoying person and was able to look less scared, I might have been able to ice over this whole situation with a nice dash of cheerfulness, but Blondey hates me enough to keep the shocked expression on her face.

"Just having a chat, huh?" Gale asks darkly. "It definitely looked like a nice chat while I was running over here."

I can't really figure out how to respond to that, so we sort of drop into an awkward silence. Gale looks over at Blondey to see if she'll answer, but she just silently asks him for help with her eyes. That coward. He looks his girlfriend up and down, and unfortunately I think he notices the slight swelling of her jaw.

His thunderhead gray eyes light up with anger. "Katniss, did you punch her?"

I shrug. I consider lying, but it tastes weird as it pops into my mouth. It's been a long time since I tried lying to Gale, which makes the whole situation funnier because Gale must lie to me a lot. "Maybe I did, maybe I didn't," I say.

That comment is like trying to calm a bear by poking it with a stick.

"What is _wrong_ with you, Katniss?" he growls.

"I don't see what I've done wrong here," I say.

Gale's looks undeniably frustrated. "You can't just punch my girlfriend for no reason!" he shouts. "What is your problem?"

"What's _my _problem?" I retaliate, suddenly feeling extremely angry at Gale. "What's _your _problem_? _You're the one who's stopped coming to the forest to keep his own family fed!_"_

"I have a life outside hunting, Katniss!" Gale says sharply. "Just because you don't doesn't mean you can't allow me something pleasurable!"

I bristle and shrink backwards. "Okay, fine. I'm sorry I punched your stupid girlfriend. I'm just trying to keep our families alive. That's something you used to care about."

I can tell that wounds Gale a little, but he's still not done being angry. He lets out a dark sigh and moves aside from the entrance to the alleyway. "You can just go," he says, pointing back towards the Seam. "Just go."

I grit my teeth. "Fine, Gale. I'll just go hunt by myself for a little while just like I've been doing for a couple weeks now. I hope you're having fun doing whatever is the two of you do when we're supposed to be hunting."

"Just shut up!" Gale yells. "You are such a problem!"

I stalk away before anything else can be said. I keep my arms crossed over my chest in righteous anger until I'm out of view. Then I start kicking up rocks and killing all the bugs that scurry through my path to get rid of my anger. I mutter curses under my breath, some directed at Gale but most directed at Blondey for changing him.

I stalk off into the forest to do some hunting, but it doesn't go very well. Gale doesn't show up at all, and I only manage to kill two rabbits in my rage. Gale's snares haven't caught anything either.

Looks like we're going hungry tonight.

Life sucks when you've lost your hunting partner and best friend all in one day.

/

_I let Katniss get out of sight before I turn back to my girlfriend. She looks remarkably less tense with Katniss a safe distance away, but there's also a lot of confusion written all over her face. _

"_Tulip, I am so sorry for whatever Katniss just did," I say, moving further into the alley to get a closer look at the damage done._

_She shakes her head, eyebrows knitting together a little. "It's… alright. It's not your fault." _

"_Yes, it is. Katniss has had an extreme case of separation anxiety lately. She's just taking her anger at me out on you," I reply simply. I reach out and hook a finger under her chin to turn the injured part of her jaw towards me. I run my thumb over the bruise, and it feels swollen._

"_Gale—"_

"_She hit you really hard, didn't she?" I ask. I tip her head back a little so that the light coming into the alley lands on the purplish mark. _

"_I guess," Tulip replies. I know she's trying to brush it off like it was nothing, but I'm too pissed off with Katniss to let it go._

"_God, I'm sorry I brought the devil upon you," I sigh. "She's never going to like you— not that her opinion matters at all." _

_Tulip turns her head back so that she can look up at me. "Do you think Katniss is at all jealous? Of us, I mean. Of our relationship."_

_I find the idea of Katniss having feelings for a guy— let alone me— so offsetting that I immediately deny the possibility. "Katniss… _jealous?_" I say. "Somehow, I doubt it." _

"_I mean, after she got her fist off my face, her main argument was the fact that you not coming hunting for hours on end was starving both of your families, but it seemed like there was something else going on beneath the surface…" Tulip says slowly._

_I reach out and grab her hand. "I highly doubt that she's jealous. I'm guessing she's literally just angry at me because I've been late. It's the sort of thing she gets stuck on."_

_Tulip sighs. "Well, I certainly _hope_ she's not jealous."_

_I laugh a little. "She's not. If she had feelings for any guy, she'd be the last to know. She doesn't recognize things like that until they're standing right in front of her." _

_Tulip smiles a little. "Whatever you say, Gale."_

_I lean forward and kiss the bruised spot on her jaw, lingering just a bit too long for it to be considered solely comforting. "You'd better get home and put ice on that so that it doesn't stay too swollen and bruised." _

_Tulip grins. "Whatever. These are the battle scars of winning Gale Hawthorne."_

_I laugh and take her hand to lead her out of the alley. We walk in silence for a moment or two towards Tulip's house in the merchant strip._

"_Are you going to go hunting with Katniss after this?" Tulip asks. _

"_To hell with that," I reply. "I'm done with her for today. I'll go when I know she's already trading."_

"_Good, I'd hate for our relationship to be in the way of your family surviving," she says, looking down at the pavement. _

"_It's not in the way of anything," I insist, leaning over to kiss her temple. "Katniss was just being dramatic. Forget about whatever she said."_

"_Alright," Tulip replies. We reach her house, and she bobs up onto her toes to kiss me on the lips once. With a final smile, she goes inside— to ice her face, I hope. _

_Then, I'm left to wander off towards the Seam to (hopefully) avoid Katniss until I'm calm enough to talk to her again. _

_/_

The lone huntress sits unaccompanied at lunch- not like that's unusual.

Oh well. I guess it's lonely at the top sometimes.

I pick the knife up off my tray of food that I don't plan on eating. It's decently sharp- albeit a little rusty- and I could _totally_ kill someone with it. And I think I know who I would like to stab most in this school.

I watch Gale sitting with his girlfriend over on the other side of the lunch room with some of the other eighteen-year-olds. I'm pleased to see that there's a nice bruise on Blondey's jaw. They both look like they're having a jolly good time over there. I finger the blade of my knife and briefly wonder what it would feel like to sink it into the wood of this table.

"Katniss?"

"What do you want, Madge?" I growl before I can pause to think about who I'm talking to. I guess I'm just deflecting my anger at whoever's nearest. Madge looks taken aback by it for a second, but she sits down across from me anyway. My eyes shift back to Gale and Blondey, and Madge follows my gaze over her shoulder. "Well," she starts, "it looks like you're glaring at Gale or the girl next to him-"

"Both, actually," I snarl.

"Is that why you're fingering your knife all dangerously?" she asks.

I put the knife back down on the table. I didn't realize I was being that obvious about it. Maybe that's why all the people sitting near us have scooted even farther away.

When I don't say anything, Madge starts eating her lunch. Mine remains untouched as I continue to glare moodily at Gale and his girlfriend every couple of seconds. At one point, Gale looks up and catches my eye. He sighs a little and raises an eyebrow at me. I quickly look away and realize that my hands go for the knife again.

You know, it's really a wonder that this doesn't deter girls from going after Gale. Well, I suppose Katniss-the-nasty-side-effect makes Gale no less desirable. Honestly, I don't understand why Gale likes them either. They're all air-heads. They're useless. At least I can hunt and help keep his family alive. Why are they worth more to him then?

Madge gets up to throw away her trash, and I follow her even though my food's untouched. Why I have decided to stop eating is a mystery even to me, considering I'll probably end up feeding Prim my fair share of dinner tonight anyway. Maybe at some point I'll start losing weight and dying, and Gale will actually start caring enough to come hunting.

As I watch my perfectly good lunch plummet into the dark depths of the trash can, I see Gale and Blondey foolishly stand up and start walking this way.

"Oh my god, Madge," I say sarcastically, grabbing hold of her arm. "She's walking into my range."

"What range?"

"Throwing range, Madge," I say, holding my knife up again. "Throwing range." Madge mutters something under her breath and walks away, obviously not wanting to be part of this anymore. That leaves me standing by the trash cans, fingering the tip of my blade, when Gale and Blondey approach. They both falter a bit at the sight of me.

"What the hell are you doing, Katniss?" Gale asks me sharply. This takes me a little while to process because he's just called me Katniss. It's been a long time since he's called me that instead of Catnip.

"Cutting up my food," I reply sharply, holding up the knife.

"By the trash can?"

"Yes, by the trash can. Where do you cut up your food? _By your table?_ That's absurd," I say sarcastically. I point the knife at him somewhat threateningly. "What do you think I'm doing?"

He just ignores that and walks away with Blondey. He casts one last dark look over his shoulder at me, and I glare right back before I storm back to my seat. I drop into my seat across from Madge and toss the knife back onto the table.

"You didn't throw it at her?"

"No. I didn't."

/

_I watch Katniss leave school with Prim, and I feel a twinge of guilt. As angry as I am at Katniss, I can't stop worrying about them. I don't know if I'm just imaging it, but Katniss looks even thinner than normal- if that's possible._

_For a second, I think I might just leave school now and hunt with her, but I look at Tulip's slightly bruised jaw and am able to banish that thought._

"_What's wrong, Gale?" _

_Tulip's voice draws me out of my worrying._

"_Nothing," I reply as Katniss disappears from sight headed towards the Seam. "It's nothing." I repeat that mostly for my sake, but I can't shake this nagging feeling like I should talk to Katniss. What if she really is suffering because we're not hunting together? What if I really am hurting her?_

_I really shouldn't care. I have a right to be angry. She did punch my girlfriend after all…but it seems like we've been friends far too long for this to kill our relationship._

_I get one look at my siblings as I walk into my house, and I walk right back out the door towards the forest._

_I don't care if I'm mad at Katniss right now. My family needs to eat and so does Katniss's. We've always worked better together. I decide our need to survive outweighs my pathetic anger._

_Let's hope this doesn't backfire._

_/_

There it is. A foolish little squirrel. It chews on its nut, completely and blissfully oblivious to my presence. I pull the string back on my bow and let out a slow breath, aiming for its glassy, black eye.

The arrow hits the squirrel dead on, clean through its pupil. Its nut drops to the forest floor, uneaten. I yank the arrow out unceremoniously and toss the squirrel into my game bag. I don't have much to bring home today, just this squirrel and a rabbit I took from one of Gale's snares.

I considered taking all of the rabbits from all of his traps, but then I realized I wouldn't just be hurting Gale by doing it. I'm _all_ for hurting Gale, but I want his little siblings to eat too. So I took just one. I figured it would be enough to tick him off, but not enough to make his family go hungry.

I creep slowly through the forest, my ears carefully tuned to every sound. Suddenly, there's a slight, barely audible snapping of a twig, and I whirl around. My bow is drawn and the arrow is shot before I even process what's standing in front of me.

"GALE?!" I scream.

He drops to his knees, clutching his shoulder. "Damn it, Katniss!" There's an arrow lodged in the tree directly behind him. Fortunately and unfortunately, it appears I've just opened a deep gash across his shoulder.

"GALE!" I scream again. I run forward and pull his bloody hand away from the gash. What have I done?

"What is _wrong_ with you?" we both shout at the same time.

"What's wrong with _me?_" we retort at the same time.

"You snuck up on me when I was in the zone!" I shriek. "You should know better."

"You _shot_ at me!" he retorts. His shirt's already soaked with blood. I've really screwed up this time.

"Oh god, Gale," I say. "I need to get you home to my mom and Prim. They'll fix you up… _oh god_…"

And that's how I ended up dragging Gale down the main street towards my house. We manage to attract less attention than I would have thought.

"MOTHER?" I scream as I barge into our small house. "PRIM?" They both come running towards the door, and they're greeted by the sight of me supporting a very bloody Gale. They look confused. "I shot Gale," I clarify.

"Katniss?!" My mother shrieks, horrified.

"_Don't ask!_" I practically scream. "Just fix him!"

Prim and my mother bandage Gale up in no time, and they assure him that it's not that bad. I don't even manage to say I'm sorry before he storms out. I lay down in bed in a huff and refuse to take a bite of the rabbit stew my mom makes. I go to bed without eating anything except for the mint leaves I had for breakfast. Am I really starving myself in an attempt to get Gale's attention? Am I really that desperate?

I decide that, yes, I am, and I fall asleep almost immediately.

/

_I slam the door shut behind me so hard that it nearly shakes the house._

"_Gale Hawthorne-" My mother starts to scold me, but she stops short at the sight of the bandages. "What-?"_

"_It's nothing," I lie. "An accident."_

_That makes me wonder if it really was an accident. I know I snuck up behind Katniss, but does she really hate me enough that she let herself shoot me? She's been acting oddly bloodthirsty lately, so maybe…._

_I shake my head and walk past my mom. I don't want to talk to anyone about this right now. If I was mad at Katniss earlier, I'm _irate_ now. Here I was thinking that I might needlessly apologize to her, and she _shoots_ me. Now she's punched my girlfriend and injured me all in the matter of a few days._

_Maybe this is enough to ruin our friendship._

_/_

The next day, I feel physically sick. I'm exhausted even though I slept well. My head throbs with a painful headache. I feel like I'm going to throw up all the time. I know immediately that it's been brought on by my starvation, but the illness by no means calls me to eat anything besides a tiny hunk of bread for breakfast.

I arrive at school in a terrible mood because of my sickness, and the happenings of the day just make it worse.

Gale avoids me as best as he can between classes, and, whenever we accidentally cross paths, he purposefully looks away from me like I'm some unsightly animal. I guess he does have every right to be at odds with me since I nearly skewered his shoulder yesterday, but it would nice if he would give me a chance to apologize.

When I see him at lunch, I start to feel extremely guilty over shooting him. His shoulder is still wrapped up in thick bandages, and it obviously makes it difficult to move his arm because he doesn't use that arm for the whole lunch period. While I'm watching him, his girlfriend kisses him on the cheek, and it actually seems to improve his mood.

I pretend to vomit into my soup bowl, much to Madge's amusement.

/

_I'm able to avoid Katniss all day. I'm literally almost out of the school yard when someone grabs my uninjured arm. I turn around, expecting Tulip, but it's actually the little devil herself._

_I'm about to tell her to go away when she gets this really distraught and remorseful look on her face. It takes me back a couple years to the first time I met her— how scared and sorry she looked. I blink a couple times, and her expression goes back to normal._

_Maybe she actually does feel really bad for shooting me… Maybe she didn't do it intentionally… I wouldn't know._

"_Tonight at 5:30?" she asks hopefully. _

_I don't really respond before I pull away and walk over towards my other friends and Tulip. I guess 5:30 is a generous offer from Katniss, considering we normally meet up at 4 pm. For a peace offering, it's a generally good shot. _

_I have to feed my family somehow, so… I guess I'll have to take Katniss up on her offer. Unless she decides to shoot at me again, in which case we probably won't be speaking to each other very often in the future._

_/_

I crouch down on the tree branch and put my bow in a ready position, prepared to shoot whatever animal gets within my range. I scan the surrounding forest, looking for the flickering movements of rabbits or squirrels.

But mostly I'm looking for Gale.

I'm still worried that he won't come. Even though I've been super mad at him lately, I don't want him to stop showing up completely. I never meant to ruin our friendship over this whole thing— I just wanted to make sure that he remembers that it's his job to keep his family fed. And now I've gone and shot him, and he didn't even have the decency to allow me to apologize.

He must think that I meant to do it or that I was happy it happened. _God…_ this is terrible. Not only have I destroyed our friendship, but I've destroyed our hunting agreement too.

Why did Gale have to go and get a girlfriend in the first place? She's the problem in all of this. If she wasn't—

Suddenly, Gale appears at the base of the tree I'm crouching in, silent as a ghost. "What are you doing up there, Catnip?" he asks. "Were you waiting to shoot me again?"

He nearly scares the living daylights out of me, but I manage to keep my balance and jump gracefully back to the forest floor.

I should probably start out this conversation with something about how sorry I am, but for some reason I blurt, "You actually came."

He looks at me darkly. "I have to feed my family somehow."

We stand in silence for a second, and I have to look down at my hands to avoid his gaze. My guilt over this whole I-shot-Gale-and-he-probably-thinks-I-did-it-on-pur pose thing is really making it hard to keep up my position on his excessive tardiness.

Then, because for some reason I can't keep my mouth shut, I blurt, "Look, Gale, I'm really sorry about shooting your shoulder."

He lets out a heavy sigh. "Whatever. I didn't come tonight because I'm happy with you again. I came because my family needs to eat."

"Seriously, though," I say. "I'm really sorry. I didn't mean—"

"What_ever_, Catnip," Gale practically growls. "Can we just get hunting?"

"What is your problem, Gale?" I ask loudly, anger boiling up inside me again. "Can't you just let me apologize for once? Of course not! You're too busy rushing around so that you can get back to your stupid girlfriend!"

"Katniss, really—"

"You just came to make a few quick kills before running back to her side, huh?" I saw loudly. "I see what's more important to you now!"

Gale's eyes flash, but he keeps his jaw clenched. "Can we please just hunt and not fight for once? I'm seriously done."

I still feel all this frustration and anger bubbling up inside me, but I manage to keep my tongue because I want to salvage whatever friendship we have left. I'm about to scoop my bow and arrows back up when I see a rabbit dart between two trees out of the corner of my eye.

Like the trained hunters that we are, Gale and I both freeze.

The unsuspecting rabbit takes a little step out from behind the tree, and, in a flicker of a second, I snatch a knife out of my pocket and chuck it straight into the rabbit's eye.

I'm about to go collect the kill like normal, but Gale grabs my arm and yanks me back. "What the hell is that?" he asks me adamantly.

"What the hell is _what?"_ I ask. I just killed a rabbit. What is wrong with that?

"Katniss, that's a Peacekeeper's knife!" Gale says.

Sure enough, that's exactly what is protruding from the rabbit's head.

"That's odd," I comment.

"_Odd?" _Gale asks loudly. "Where did you get it?"

The more I look at the knife, the more I start to remember things about it. Like I'm trying to recall details of a dream. I see myself wandering into the bar in the Seam and stealing a knife off a Peacekeeper I've never talked to in my life. The really weird part is, I have no idea when I did that.

"You know what, Gale? I think I stole it," I say in a strangely calm voice.

"You _think _you stole it?" Gale retaliates, looking at me like I'm insane. "That's sort of something you know for sure."

"I'm pretty positive I did it in my sleep because I can't really think of another time that I'd be impaired enough to feel like I was dreaming," I say. I don't know how I'm being outwardly calm about this. On the inside, I'm starting to panic. "Unless I've been drunk without really knowing…"

"Oh my god, Katniss, you are insane," Gale says quietly, taking a few steps backwards.

"There's probably a rational explanation for this—"

Gale takes in a slow breath and shakes his head. "I think I'll just go check the snare line and go home."

I yank the Peacekeeper knife out of the rabbit. "Gale, really. It's not a big deal—"

"What has happened to you?" Gale asks. "You're like a totally different person."

"I don't know, okay?" I—"

"You need serious help," Gale interrupts me. Before I can say anything in response to that, he disappears behind some trees to go see what his snares have caught.

And I'm left kneeling in the dirt, holding a Peacekeeper knife that I apparently stole without processing, wondering why on earth this sort of stuff always happens to me.

/

About twenty minutes after Gale leaves, I find another Peacekeeper knife in another one of my pockets.

Apparently I stole more than I thought.

/

It's almost dark by the time I decide to head back home. I hunted pretty well with my Peacekeeper knife, and I end up with quite a few rabbits. Since I'm not really sure how much the snare line caught in the past 24 hours, I decide to stop at the Hawthornes' house.

I knock on the back door, and Hazelle lets me in immediately. I find myself strangely disappointed that it wasn't Gale who answered my knock, though. It's not that I don't like Hazelle— I love Hazelle. She's more of a mother to me than my own mom. It's just, I feel the need to apologize and explain my sanity to Gale, and if he had gotten the door, that would have been a perfect opportunity.

I casually glance over at the table in the small kitchen, and there's only two dead rabbits lying there. I immediately plunge my hand into my game bag and retrieve two squirrels.

"Take these," I say, holding them out to her.

She tries to refuse them, but I don't allow it. We stand in silence for a second, and I decide to swallow up my pride and just ask for Gale.

"By chance, is Gale home?" I ask. He could just be hiding from me, after all.

"No, he barely came in to drop of the game," Hazelle says. "He left a couple minutes ago."

_To go make out with his girlfriend, no doubt. _I think to myself.

"Why? Do you need me to tell him something?" Hazelle asks.

Lord knows I can't tell Hazelle anything about me stealing the knives subconsciously, so I backtrack quickly and decide to let Gale figure it all out by himself. I dig the second Peacekeeper knife out of my game bag and toss it into the table. "Gale left that in the forest," I tell Hazelle. "Let him know I brought it back."

"Of course," she replies.

I head over to the door, but I am overcome by a strange desire to just spill how sorry I am about yelling at Gale constantly, but I hold it in. "Good night, Hazelle," I say.

"Good night," she replies. "I'll let Gale know you stopped by."

_Chances are he won't care. _I decide not to tell Hazelle that either because that will just make it all worse.

/

_When I get home later that night, there are two more squirrels on the table. It makes me want to walk straight out of the room and pretend I didn't see because I'm so fed up with Katniss and her stealing shenanigans, but my mom has already noticed my return. _

"_Katniss stopped by while you were gone," she says, nodding towards the table. _

_Dammit all. Why does Katniss insist on scaring the crap out of me and then turning around and doing something nice?_

"_She also returned your knife," my mom says. I give her a confused look, so she tacks on. "Katniss said you left it in the forest. It's on the table."_

_Dreading what I might see, I walk over to the table, and sure enough, there's another Peacekeeper knife laying there, this one slightly different than the one Katniss used in the forest. _

"_Are you kidding me?" I hiss under my breath. _

"_What did you say?" my mom asks. _

"_Nothing," I mutter. I close my fist tightly around the handle of the knife and start to stalk out of the room, but my mom catches my arm._

_She looks at me seriously. "I'm worried about Katniss." _

"_Me, too," I say without thinking. _

"_Have you noticed how thin she's getting?" my mom asks quietly. _

_It doesn't really dawn on me until that precise moment that she has been looking quite emaciated. I suddenly find myself feeling blinded and horrified._

_Katniss is turning into a major problem. And the worst part is, it's making me care._

_/_

The next day at lunch, Gale appears in front of me and slams the Peacekeeper knife down on the table.

"Another one?" he asks roughly. "Really, Catnip?"

He starts to stalk away, and for some reason I shout, "I'm just as concerned as you are!" after him for almost no reason.

/

I wander over to the trash can with another full plate. My self-induced starvation is still wreaking havoc on my system, but I feel too nauseous (and weirded out by the fact that I've started to steal) to eat.

I dump my tray in the trash, and I become acutely aware that someone is watching me. When I turn around, I see that a blond guy, the baker's son, is staring all concernedly at me. I wonder if he's judging me for not eating.

"What are you looking at?" I snap.

He flinches, blushes a furious red, and goes back to eating.

/

"What am I going to do, Madge?" I ask despondently during lunch. I have just finished explaining to her my kleptomania issue because I found another knife in my pocket this morning. I glance over at Gale and his girlfriend. Frankly, I kind of don't blame him for dating this girl. She seems a lot more pleasant to be around at the moment.

"I don't know, Katniss," Madge says with a sigh. "Why aren't you eating?"

"You know about as well as I do, Madge," I reply.

"Katniss…" she moans.

"Don't worry about me," I say, sticking one of the school knives in my pocket. "Just eat your soup." Then I process what I just did. I just stole a knife without thinking about it. I quickly take it back out of my pocket and push it away like it's poisoned.

I manage to not steal any knives for the rest of the day (I think). I wander out into the schoolyard and glumly wait for Prim. She's probably off somewhere giggling and chatting with her million-and-one friends, while I wait here completely alone as my (ex?) best friend is probably making out with his girlfriend behind the school.

I really just want to get home. I feel crumby and weak from my food strike. I don't think this plan is working in my favor. It is _not_ getting Gale back. _Oh my god, where the heck is Prim?_

"Catnip?"

I am so shocked to hear Gale's voice saying this that it takes a few seconds for me to register it. "What?" I ask.

"My mother says she's worried about you," he says.

"So?"

"So she says she'll kill me if I don't make sure you're okay," he says. For some reason, this comment really hacks me off. Suddenly, I'm filled with an infinite rage, which I decide to aim at Gale.

"Well, Gale," I snap, "you can tell your mother this: I haven't eaten in at least three days, I have no friends apart from Madge, I've been wasting precious energy and time hunting for your family as well as mine, and I seem to be growing oddly attracted to knives and stealing. How's that sound?"

"You haven't eaten in three days?" he says.

"No, I haven't, Gale," I say sharply. "I haven't eaten in three days, and I have lost even more weight, if that's possible. Does that make you happy?"

"No," he says, shocked, "why would it?"

"I don't know," I say. "I don't understand you at all anymore!" I think about adding "I don't understand myself either," but I decide not to. Instead, I start to turn away from him.

"Catnip—"

"Just go back to your precious girlfriend, and leave me alone," I say, my voice rising.

"Katniss, stop-"

"Gale-"

"Katniss, calm down!" he says, grabbing my arm. "You need to eat something. _Now_."

"I don't want to," I say.

"Katniss—"

"Maybe I want to die," I say before I really think about it.

"There are a lot easier ways to die," Gale says darkly.

"Right," I say, "how silly of me. How about I just get myself reaped this weekend and get myself into the Hunger Games. Then all of Panem will get to watch me publicly get murdered."

"Catnip, you know that's not what I meant," says Gale. He's starting to look concerned. _Good_.

"Oh right," I say sarcastically. "Because there's an even easier way to die. I can just get myself shot by a Peacekeeper. They're always nearby and handy, especially with the Reaping coming up. You want to watch me provoke the Peacekeepers?"

"Katniss," he says warningly. I turn on my heels and start walking towards the main square where I know there'll be Peacekeepers. "Catnip, I swear to god, if you go-"

"Guess what, Gale?" I yell loud enough for the Peacekeepers to hear me. "I hate District 12! I hate the Hunger Games! I hate the Capitol! I hate Peacekeepers! And most of all-"

I don't even get to say what I hate most of all because at least three Peacekeepers start heading towards me, their hands moving towards their guns.

Gale grabs onto me to stop me. "She doesn't know what she's saying!" he tells the Peacekeepers as they get closer. He clamps his hands over my mouth before I can claim otherwise. "She's sick! She doesn't know what she's saying. Do you, Catnip?" Somewhat reluctantly, I shake my head. The Peacekeepers return the guns to their holsters and return to their patrolling.

Gale spins me around to face him. "Katniss, what the hell?"

"What?" I ask innocently.

"What was that about? What has _happened_ to you?"

"She happened," I say acidly, pointing recklessly across the schoolyard where his girlfriend is standing. A mix of emotion floods over his face. I rip my arm out of his grip. "Goodbye, Gale," I say and march off.

"Wait, Katniss," he yells. I keep walking. "Do you mean 'goodbye for now' or 'goodbye, I'm going to starve myself and get shot by Peacekeepers'?"

"A little bit of both," I yell over my shoulders.

"_Catnip_!" he yells.

"WHAT NOW?"

"I'll see you later," he yells. "Like usual, okay?"

I feel a smile creep across my face without my permission. Maybe we _can_ come out of this okay. Maybe Blondey and I can both exist in Gale's life.

"We'll see."

/

_I watch Katniss walk away, and I'm…confused._

_I have to stand there for a few seconds genuinely thinking about what just happened. First off, Katniss hasn't been eating for several days, and that could possibly be my fault. And she could be a little suicidal. I mean, she just provoked a Peacekeeper. And to top it all off, she's stealing knives, and she doesn't really remember doing it._

_She's losing it…and I'm starting to care again._

_She can be so frustrating sometimes, but… She is my friend- has been for four years. I feel like we need to fix this._

_I glance over my shoulder at Tulip and then look back in the direction that Katniss has disappeared, and I make the earthshattering decision that I _am_ going to meet Katniss in the forest. That conversation we had- however messed up it was- reminded me of why we're friends._

_And besides, someone needs to be there to make Katniss eat, right?_

/

I meet Gale at our usual meeting spot, and we hunt. It's almost like it used to be. I think…I think we might be okay. Gale keeps insisting I eat berries and roots that we gather- which I don't. I seem to have a continuous run of undercutting jokes about Blondey going, but Gale actually laughs at some of them.

I've also noticed that I'm pretty good at knifing game with my stolen knives.

We deposit some game at my house. Gale tells Prim she has to force feed me food from now on. Then I walk with Gale to his house to tell Hazelle I'm alright- which I'm clearly not, but that's beside the point.

Gale makes me promise that I'll eat, but promises are meant to be broken, right?

/

_The door shuts behind Katniss as she waves off my insistence that she eat. I sigh. I'm almost positive that she's not going to eat. She's stubborn._

_My mom shakes her head like she's astounded by the change in Katniss. "What's gotten into her?" she asks me._

"_I don't know." I sigh again. "She's mad at my girlfriend or something."_

"_Oh, so that's what this is about," my mom says, and then she laughs to herself. "I saw this coming from a mile away."_

"_What are you talking about?" I ask._

"_Isn't it obvious?"_

"_If you're about to tell me that Katniss is jealous, she's not," I insist, although I'm not so sure about it myself. I repeat what I told Tulip. "If she had feelings for anyone, she would be the last to know."_

"_Whatever you say," my mom says with a shrug. _

_She leaves the room, and I'm left to think about Katniss's motivation._

/

I moan. I don't know what time it is. I stretch and feel leaves rustling beneath me. I smell earth. I can hear the rustling of trees

My eyes snap open, and I jerk up to a sitting position. I look around me frantically.

The last thing I remember is telling Prim goodnight and lying down in bed. How the heck did I get in the _forest_? Maybe I'm still dreaming? But I'm not. This is real.

There's a knife that is not my own in my hand. In fact, there're a lot of knives around me. Like a _lot_ of knives. There are at least fifteen. Where'd I get all of these? And more importantly, how'd I get _here_ with all of the knives?

"Gale?" I call. No one responds.

I suddenly remember that today's reaping day, and I probably shouldn't be here right now.

I hurriedly hide the knives and wander back to the fence. People are already heading to the square. I run back to my house, knives carefully hidden in my jacket.

* * *

_A/N: Please tell us your thoughts. Hope you enjoyed :)_


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two: Crazy Katniss Plays Mind Games**

After I have myself cleaned off from my strange escapade into the forest, and I've made proper excuses to my mother for being gone when she woke up ("Mother, the Peacekeepers always get a little drunk on reaping day. We can sell game for outrageous prices."), Prim and I trudge off towards the square.

I feel uncomfortable in my reaping clothes, considering this is the only time I ever step into a dress, and it makes me feel strangely vulnerable. However, I feel oddly weighed down, and that gives me a distinct impression that I'm armed. That's the last thing I need— to get caught with a stolen knife on reaping day.

Prim bumps into my side, and I see that she's shaking. She has every right to be afraid, I guess. It's her first year having to standing in line, praying that no one you know will get sent to their death. It cracks your sanity (though, it would appear that I have a few too many cracks already since I'm stealing while asleep).

I reach down and squeeze Prim's hand, trying to be as comforting as I can. "It's alright, little duck," I say gently. "You're only in once. There's no need to worry."

"B-b-but you're in 32 times!" she replies, her voice cracking.

"I know, I know," I insist. I hold her hand tighter. "I haven't been picked yet, though, have I? It's going to be alright."

Prim's blue eyes swim with tears. "What about Gale?" she squeaks.

That causes me more pain than I think she realizes. Prim must not be aware that Gale and I are walking on eggshells around each other right now. But now I'm thinking about how many times he's in the reaping this year. The last time I asked him, his name was in 46 times.

"Don't worry about him," I say, trying to convince myself as well as my sister. "This is his last year. He'll be out of the reaping bowl before you know it."

Prim's lower lip starts to shake so hard that I'm worried she might cry, so I give up trying to talk. I pull my hand out of hers and throw my arm around her shoulders. Surely if I act this unconcerned, it'll rub off on her. I don't want her to have to be worried sick.

Besides, her name is only in once. I refused to allow her to take out more tesserae, so there's no chance that her name will be pulled today. No chance.

We reach the square within a couple of minutes, and Prim's shaking has increased. I take her hand and lead her over to the line of kids between the ages of twelve and eighteen. This is her first year in this line. This is her first time signing in at a reaping. This is her first experience coming this close to death.

I swallow back my nerves and look out into the crowd that's already forming in the center of the square for the one important face. Gale always knows how to calm me down when I'm the most tense. He has a way of coaxing a laugh out of me even on the worst of days.

But when I find him standing so close to his girlfriend that their foreheads are touching, I am once again reminded that I'm not the most important girl on his mind anymore.

And I go back to being depressed.

/

_Groups of people are starting to form in the square as I let the Capitol representative take a sample of my blood in order to identify me. Her little hand-held machine gives a beep, and I'm allowed to proceed forward. I give one backward glance towards my family, catching my mother's eye to make sure she knows I'm not worried, and then I wander into the mass of fidgety children. _

_The dull paranoia gnaws at the back of my mind, and I remember it well from the past six years of my life. And it's all lead to this— my final reaping. It's ironic how this all leads to a climax, how as you age and take out more tesserae there's more of a chance that you'll be reaped._

"_Gale!" someone calls from behind me. I turn around to see Tulip walking away from the sign in line. _

"_Hey," I say, taking her hand. I pull her closer to me and press my lips to hers once. _

_However, when I pull back, she's looking at the ground, nervously biting her lower lip. In a moment of bitter jealousy, I wonder what the hell she has to worry about because she's never had to take out extra tesserae, but she looks up at me, and it's obvious she's not worrying about herself._

"_Gale…" she says tentatively. "How many times are you in today?"_

Lost count. _That's what I think about saying first because it's the truth. I stopped paying attention to the exact number after I surpassed forty slips. _

_My hesitance seems to be making Tulip scared, so I kill the silence with an estimate. "Forty-six, I think," I reply. My voice comes out surprisingly calm. _

_Tulip visibly winces and shuts her eyes for a second. "Oh, my god…" she whispers. _

"_Hey, don't worry about it," I say, leaning down to touch my forehead to hers. "It's not a big deal. I haven't been picked yet." _

"_Yet being the key word!" Tulip says, her eyes swimming. _

"_Tulip, it's—"_

"_It's not fair," she says emphatically. "Gale, I'm only in six times. It's not fair at all that you're in the bowl 40 more times than I am!"_

_I sigh. "Tulip, look, neither of us is going to get picked, okay? It's our last reaping. We'll be out of this madness before you can blink an eye." _

_I'm surprised at my ability to make such adamant claims, but they don't seem to be helping either of us get over anything. Tulip opens her mouth to make a retort, but I silence her with another kiss. _

"_Just don't worry about me," I say quietly. "I'll be okay." _

_She holds my gaze for a long time and then deflates. "Fine, whatever, I'll calm down," she says. A faint smile appears on her lips. "But I don't think anything you could say will make me stop worrying about you." _

_I roll my eyes. "And I won't stop worrying about you." _

"_You have no reason to be concerned," she says. "I'm only in six times." _

"_Well, your name is still in the bowl, isn't it?" _

_She rolls her eyes too, and we both realize that people are starting to get into lines. That means it must almost be reaping time. I kiss Tulip's forehead one more time, and she wanders over to the girl's side to get in line in the front row. _

_/_

As soon as I see Blondey leave Gale's side, I wander over towards him. It isn't hard to follow him, considering he's taller than pretty much every other guy in the square right now.

"Hey, Gale," I say once I'm in earshot.

He turns around to meet me. "Hey, Catnip," he says. He looks down at me, and a slight smile forms on his face. "You actually decided to wear a dress today?"

I smirk back at him. "Figured I might as well," I say. I give my skirt a little twirl for his amusement. "Do I look pretty?"

It's not until that question comes out of my mouth that I realize how that must have sounded.

Gale looks pretty confused and conflicted for a second, but he covers it up with a roll of his eyes. "Sure, Catnip," he says sarcastically.

For a second, another bout of questions flash through his eyes like he's working through something, but I chose to ignore it. Once that's out of my head, though, my worry for Prim invades again.

"It's Prim's first reaping," I blurt before I can stop myself. "She's pretty terrified."

"Shit," Gale breathes. His eyes flash with concern, and I wonder if he's think about his own siblings. "She's twelve already?"

I nod. It seems like Gale totally forgot that it's Prim's first reaping. I guess we haven't been talking as much lately, so I can see how it would slip his mind. I don't see how he could possibly be thinking about Prim with his tongue down Blondey's throat.

I'm about to point that out to him, but I think better of it. If I want to salvage what's left of our friendship, I've got to stop harping on him. Plus, I must grudgingly admit that he does seem to genuinely care about this girl…

"I'm sorry, Katniss," he says, and I know what he means by it. It's like he was reading my mind.

We stand in silence for a couple second, and I do my best to conceal my worry for my little Prim.

Gale clears his throat, and his eyebrows knit together. "How many times are _you_ in today?" he asks.

"Thirty-two," I reply. It seems like nothing compared to his forty-six, but based on his reaction, that's not what he thinks.

"_Jesus, _Catnip, when did that number get so high?" he asks. A sharp sort of panic appears in his eyes. "Last you told me, you were only in twenty-six times."

I am momentarily struck by how concerned he seems over my safety. These past few weeks, I thought his care for me was shrinking before my very eyes, but it would seem that I've been wrong. Apparently he still cares deeply about both me and Prim. He cares enough to remember how many times I'm in the reaping…

Maybe not much has changed between the two of us.

"Remember three months ago when it snowed so bad that we couldn't hunt for a long time? I took some tesserae out then," I say, looking at the ground. I can't meet his gaze because it makes me feel too overjoyed about the un-fractured state of our relationship.

He starts to say something, but a whistle blows around the square, signaling for everyone to get in their places. I turn around to immediately head towards my line, but I impulsively turn back around to snag Gale's arm.

"Don't get picked today," I say quickly.

"You either," he replies.

And then I jog back to my spot. If only we could ensure that neither of us will be drawn. The odds don't seem to be in our favor.

/

Effie Trinket, District Twelve's escort, totters over to the girls' reaping bowl, swaying ever so slightly on her towering heels.

She pauses before reaching in, smiles at all the females in the square, and says, "May the odds be ever in your favor."

I swallow back a million insults that I want to throw her way. How can she be so cheery when she knows that we're all holding our breath, praying that the name she picks won't be ours? How can she stand there with a smile on her face against all of our grimaces?

Effie plunges her hand into the bowl and spins it around in all the names. I take in a sharp breath to calm my nerves, and I start to wonder just how many times her fingers brush a paper that has my name written on it. She finally plucks a single strip out from within the mass, and a smile spreads across her plastic face.

The square falls into complete silence as Effie makes her way back to the microphone. There's a unanimous intake of breath as everyone begins their separate prayers.

_Not Prim. Not me. Not Prim. Not me. _

Effie Trinket unfolds the paper. "Tulip Rockland," she says in a clear voice.

Relief floods over everything as I let out my long-held breath. Prim and I have both survived for another year. I immediately turn to find Gale's face in the crowd, just so that I'll see him smile back at me like he really does genuinely care.

I find him towards the front with the rest of the eighteen year olds.

He looks dead.

My heart immediately sinks into my stomach, and I turn to see the tribute approaching the stage. Who should be walking up but Blondey, Gale's girlfriend.

Despite the fact that this girl has been tearing my hunting partner away from me for the past few weeks, she still doesn't deserve this. No one, not even the most detestable people, deserve to be reaped for the Hunger Games. And it's her last year. She was almost to safety.

My heart starts to pound really hard in my ears, and I search out Gale's face in the crowd again.

I watch his teeth clench, muscles jumping in his jaw. His hand goes up to cover his mouth. A deep-set pain settles in his eyes as he watches the girl he loves approach the stage.

A spark lights somewhere in my chest. An idea, a stupid idea, pops into my head and grows larger and more plausible as the seconds tick by. My eyes lock with the side of Gale's face one more time, and the look in his eyes is enough to make the decision.

If I know one thing for sure, I care for Gale as much as I care for Prim, and that seems to be the only thing that registers in my heart right now. In this instant, it doesn't matter that I rank lower than his girlfriend in his spectrum of caring— it only matters that it's painful for me to see Gale suffer.

And it also occurs to me that maybe this is just some stupid plan that my brain his come up with to make Gale care about me more than his girlfriend because I saved her life.

But my motives don't really matter because I'm starting to shove through the crowd of girls. Tulip Rockland reaches the steps just as I burst into the aisle between the boys and girls.

Suddenly all attention jumps from Tulip getting escorted onto the stage by Peacekeepers to me.

"I volunteer!" I shout, my voice sounding resolute and calm. "I volunteer as tribute!"

The entire district goes silent, and every Capitol camera turns to me. The Peacekeepers and children just stare at me as though I'm a dangerous maniac with a death wish. At the top of the stairs, Blondey looks taken aback, though that's to be expected because I've never expressed anything besides complete loathing towards her.

I find one more face before starting towards the stage. Gale.

He looks like someone just put his sister, Posy, at gunpoint.

If anything, this new expression is more heart-wrenching than the last one, and I immediately have to look away.

I take one step towards the stage, and an agonized scream cuts through the square. I hear little feet running up the gravel towards me, and I turn around just as Prim's arms fling around my waist.

"KATNISS, NO!" she screams, tears streaming down her face. "YOU CAN'T GO!"

The pain in her voice almost makes me reconsider, but I can't back down now. I attempt to pry her little arms off of me. "_Sh, _Prim," I whisper.

Her screaming turns unintelligible as she struggles against my attempts to free myself from her grip. I keep trying to tell her it's going to be okay, but it doesn't work.

Then, suddenly, someone else bursts free of the crowd and comes towards us. Gale gently grabs Prim around the waist and, being much stronger than me, pulls her tightly against him. He gives me a look that's so dead and so confused and so anguish.

"Up you get, Catnip," he says quietly. He seems to be searching for more to say, but Prim's fighting him so hard that nothing comes to mind.

That's when Effie seems to regain her senses. "It appears we have a volunteer," she says excitedly. "Come right up here, darling!"

Some Peacekeepers take that as their cue to converge around me, but I make them keep their distance by throwing out my arms and whispering, "Don't touch me. I'm armed." so that only they hear. I'm not sure why I feel the need to say it, but it gets them to back off. Besides, it's not like I'm lying. I probably have a Peacekeeper knife somewhere on my person.

The Peacekeepers back away from me, and I now have a clear shot to the stage. Behind me, I hear Prim struggling and sobbing at Gale's attempts to get her back in line. In front of me, there's Tulip and Effie, waiting for me to get on stage.

The whole square watches me as I walk, and I reach the bottom of the stairs before Tulip decides to make a move. She stumbles down the stairs towards me and grabs my arm.

"What are you doing?" she whispers hurriedly to me.

_Protecting Gale, _I think to myself, but the only thing that comes out of my mouth is, "Just get back in line."

The Peacekeepers that were too intimidated to escort me to the stage reach up and haul Tulip back down onto the gravel. She puts up a bit of a struggle, but she seems to be too stunned to make any attempts to stop me.

I redirect my attention to the stage, and Effie waves me over. Like I'm moving in a dream, I walk to her side.

"What's your name, darling?" she asks. Her eyelashes are even gaudier up here on stage.

I swallow slowly. "Katniss Everdeen," I respond into the microphone.

"And why did you volunteer?" she asks. This is just for the Capitol. They'll want to know.

A million answers swim around in my mind, but they're all too personal to mention to the entire district. So, instead, I search out Gale's face in the crowd and say, "It's too hard to watch my friends suffer."

He gets a look like I've just wounded him beyond words, and he shuts his eyes.

_You were right, Gale. There _are_ easier ways to die. _

/

_Effie stands in front of the guy's bowl now. She's perfectly collected, like she hasn't just congratulated my best friend on walking to her death. Like this isn't totally tragic. _

_She pulls a slip of paper out of the bowl and gives us a glittering smile. I loathe her for it, and somewhere inside myself, I wonder if it's mine. I find myself suffocating with each breath, absolutely terrified of losing my Catnip._

_Suddenly, I hear a voice echoing around in my head. My father's voice. When he was alive, right before the reaping, he would put his hand on my shoulder and tell me, "Son, you're a Hawthorne, and that means you have to stand tall and make sure they know you're not afraid. We Hawthornes don't kneel at the Capitol's feet willingly." _

_It was enough to keep me strong when I was fourteen, and it's being tested right now. It's going to have to be enough. _

_I wipe my face devoid of emotion as Effie approaches the microphone. "Peeta Mellark," she says clearly._

_It's the baker's son. He probably only has four slips in the reaping, and yet he's heading to stage right now. _

_I guess the odds aren't in anyone's favor today. _

_Effie makes Katniss and Peeta shake hands, and that's almost enough to make me crack. She asks for applause from the audience, and no one complies. Instead, all around me, people raise the three middle fingers of their left hand to their lips and then hold them in the air. _

_That's a funeral gesture. In District Twelve, we honor the dead with that gesture. People did that at the ceremony for my father's death. _

_I can't manage to do the gesture myself. I haven't lost Katniss yet. I'll hold on until it's completely hopeless. _

_/_

I am escorted into a plush room with soft carpets and velvet chairs and couches. I stand by the grimy window and watch as all of District 12 wanders home with their families after one more year of survival. I did my fingernails into the window frame, and I have a really strong desire to steal a knife.

I pull a very small paring knife out of my belt. Didn't know I had that one. I guess I wasn't kidding when I told the Peacekeepers I was armed. I run my thumb over the smooth handle obsessively.

The door bangs open behind me, and Prim comes stumbling in, her eyes red and puffy from crying. "Katniss," she sobs. I hug her tightly as Mom walks in behind her, shutting the door.

"It's okay, ducky," I say soothingly. I run my hands over her smooth braids. "It's okay. Look at me, Prim." I put a finger under her chin and make her look me in the eye. "You are not going to sign up for tesserae. There's no reason to put your name in more times than necessary. Gale still likes you, so he'll bring you game. You can just sell chees from your goat. And don't you dare try to learn to hunt; it'll only upset you."

"And you," I say, turning on my mother. "You are _not_ allowed to clock out again. Not like when Dad died. You have to stay here for Prim."

"Katniss, I- I won't," she says quietly.

"No matter what you see, no matter if I get slaughtered violently on television for all of Panem to see, you have to stay with Prim, got it?" I say, my voice sharper than I intended. My mom nods quietly, wounded by my words.

"But, Katniss," Prim wails, "you can't die!"

"Oh, Primmy, I'll try not to," I say gently. "I'll try, okay?"

"You have to win," she sobs. "You're smart. You can hunt."

"I know. I'll try," I say. "I really will."

A Peacekeeper opens the door, announcing that our time is up. I desperately don't want them to leave. I throw my arms around both of them and hug them. "I love you," I choke out. Prim starts sobbing again, and the Peacekeepers pull them from the room. I get one last glimpse of my sister, and then the door slams shut.

/

_As soon as Katniss is taken away and everyone's released from the square, I force my way through the crowds towards the Justice Building. There's a Peacekeeper waiting inside, directing people coming to say goodbye to Katniss and Peeta_

"_Name?" asks the Peacekeeper._

"_Gale Hawthorne," I say numbly. I won't even look the Peacekeeper in the eye. I can't tear my eyes away from the wooden door blocking Katniss from sight._

"_Which tribute are you visiting?" he asks. "The girl or the boy?"_

"_Katniss," I say. "The girl."_

"_Relationship with the tribute?" he asks._

"_Friend," I say definitively. It seems weird coming out of my mouth after spending these last few weeks at odds with her, insisting she wasn't my friend._

_The Peacekeeper takes some of my blood to identify me and lets me walk by. I walk over to the wall outside her door and sink to the ground. Madge Undersee, Katniss's other friend, and oddly, the baker are waiting outside Katniss's room. I can't even look at any of them._

_I'm having a hard time convincing myself that this is real. It feels like I'm living in some terrible nightmare. First, Tulip, who is in the reaping six times, gets reaped, and then Katniss volunteered. Katniss, who has been on the warpath, screaming and punching this girl, volunteered. I can't even fathom how the thought even came to her mind. And what she said at the end of the reaping… "It's too hard to watch my friends suffer."_

_Does she not realize how I'm suffering watching her go into the Games?_

_And then I'm forced to compare them. I'm forced to ask myself if I would have rather watched Tulip enter the Hunger Games. Would I have preferred Katniss not to volunteer? I know it would have killed me either way, but is there really a pain worse than watching your best friend walk to her death just to keep you happy?_

_I could see it in her eyes when I pulled Prim away. I could see it in her eyes that she thought what she was doing was right. She thought that volunteering to take Tulip's place was making me happy. _

_And that kills me._

_Someone walks up next to me, and I can't look up to see who it is._

"_Gale…I'm sorry."_

_It's Tulip. She's here to apologize- to me and to Katniss, probably. I can't make myself say anything to her. I wonder if she takes my silence as anger, but I don't care right now because there's something eating away at me._

_I can't shake this terrible, nagging feeling that I would rather be here saying goodbye to Tulip than Katniss._

_/_

My next visitor is a surprise: the baker. I have no idea why he's here. I could be killing his son in about a week or so, after all. He sits down in one of the velvet chairs across from the couch I'm sitting on.

I've never really talked to him before. I mean, he buys my squirrels sometimes, and he buys some of Prim's goat's cheese that we don't sell at the Hob. He's always been very fair. He seems like a nice man.

"Here," he says quietly. He hands me a small package. I open it just slightly and the smell of fresh baked goods hits me. There's a small iced cookie in the package. This is a luxury we've never been able to afford.

"Thank you," I say quietly. He's not a very talkative man, so we just sit there in silence. I break off a piece of my cookie and eat it.

The time is almost over when he stands up. "I'll keep an eye on the little girl," he says. "Make sure she's eating." He's always seemed quite fond of Prim when we've traded with him.

"Thank you," I say, and I mean it.

He walks over to the door and starts to open it. Just as he's leaving, I add, "Thanks. I'll keep an eye on your son, too." I wink just as he closes the door. I'll let him decide what that meant because I have no idea why I said that.

I make myself comfortable on the couch again, and Madge enters the room.

"Katniss," she says quietly, "I can't believe you just did that." She sits down on the couch next to me. "One minute you're joking about stabbing her in the lunch room, and the next you're volunteering for her at the reaping?"

"Well, Gale obviously cares about her, and he's my friend so-"

"You've been insisting that you weren't friends for weeks!"

"You didn't see his face, Madge," I say quietly. "You didn't see his face when Blondey's name was called."

Madge doesn't have anything to say in response to that.

"Okay, it seemed a lot more rational in my head," I add.

"Katniss-"

"Is Gale out there?" I ask before she can berate me some more.

"Yes, Katniss," Madge says, "but-"

"Good," I say, "I need to talk to him."

Madge sighs. "Katniss, I have something for you," she says. She holds out a small pin. There's a gold mockingjay in the middle attached to a circle by its wings. "Wear this into the arena, alright?"

"It's pretty," I say, turning it over in my hand. I finger the point of the pin. "Could this be used as a weapon, do you think?"

She snatches it back out of my hand. "No. That's not the point of a District token. If you start threatening to stab people with it, they won't let you have it."

"You're right," I say. I permit Madge to pit it to my dress. Suddenly, I'm overcome by emotion, and I have to hug her. She pats me gently on the back. "Thanks for being my friend," I say, "even though it's obviously very difficult sometimes."

"It's a pleasure," Madge says.

The Peacekeepers come in to collect her. She gives me a kiss on the cheek and tries to send me a reassuring smile. "Good luck, Katniss. I'll see you very soon."

The door is barely shut a fraction of a second before Gale's reopened it.

I open my mouth to say something, but Gale cuts me off, "You need to get your hands on some knives."

"What?"

"And a bow, if that's possible," he adds. "But you definitely need to get some knives. You seem to be pretty good at stealing those things, and that'll be good for you in the Games."

He sits down next to me and wraps me in his arms. Even though we've been holding each other at an icy distance for weeks, his arms still feel welcome wrapped around me. "What if there's not a bow or any knives. What if it's like that year with just the spiked maces?"

"Then make yourself a bow and fashion a knife out of some rocks," he says. "It's just like hunting."

"But they think, Gale," I insist. "They have names."

"That didn't stop you from shooting me, did it?" he says sardonically. If that was him trying to cheer me up, it was pretty pathetic.

"Right," I say.

"You're the best hunter I know," he says. "You can win this, I know you can. You're stronger than they are." I don't respond.

It looks like there's something eating away at him. "Why did you do it?"

"Do what?"

"Volunteer," he says quietly, his eyes locking on mine.

"I couldn't bear seeing you that sad," I say quietly. "When they called her name, you-" I have to stop myself. There's no reason for me to be taking Gale on some kind of emotional guilt trip right now. "Besides, Blondey's not too handy with weapons, is she? At least I've got a chance of winning this thing."

Gale can't even stop the smile from coming to his face. "That's true," he says with a little laugh. I smile, too, and it feels nice. At least, now I have the comfort of knowing that if I die, I leave him on good terms.

The Peacekeepers come back, and I panic. "Gale! Take care of Prim and my mom, alright? Don't let them starve."

"Of course not," he says, giving me one last hug. "Katniss, look at me. You'll be fine. And Catnip, remember I-"

And the door slams shut between us. I sit there in silence, trying to guess what he was going to say. What was I supposed to remember?

I think that Gale was probably my last visitor, but then the door is tentatively opened. Blondey peeks around the door.

"Thank you," she says quietly. I can see tears in her eyes.

"You're welcome," I say tightly. The silence settles around us like dust. She stands up quickly, like she's going to leave, but for some reason, I have to stop her. "No, wait. Don't go. Please, take care of Gale for me. Tell him to take care of my family….and himself." She nods and bites her lip. "And tell Gale….tell Gale that there's a present for him…from me…in the for-" I stop before saying forest in case the Peacekeepers can here. "-ge. The forge. The place where we usually meet. Tell him that please, okay?"

I know that there are probably a million stolen knives hidden there, and maybe it'll give Gale a laugh before I disappear from his life forever.

"Okay, Katniss," Blondey says as the Peacekeepers come to take her away. "I will. I'll tell him."

The door slams shut. I'm left alone for a few minutes, and then Peeta and I are taken out of our rooms to head to the station. I manage to hold myself together, although it appears that Pillsbury-Dough-Boy Peeta has been crying. He makes no attempt to conceal it either. I have to roll my eyes.

_What a weakling._

* * *

_A/N: Please let us know what you think _


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three: Crazy Katniss Plays With the Capitol's Things**

_The Peacekeepers shove me down the hallway leading to the exit of the Justice Building and then turn to manhandle Tulip through the doorway to Katniss's room. Like they have to use the unnecessary force. _

_I only manage to make it a couple steps down the hall before I collapse onto one of the benches, dropping my head into my hands. _

_That could be the last time I see her. That could be the last time I talk to her. That could be the last time I touch her. That could be the last time I do anything with Katniss Everdeen. _

_I could lose her. _

_That's enough to knock the wind out of me. _

_There's a loud clatter from down the hall as the Peacekeepers move to rip the door to Katniss's room open again. I can hear Tulip hurriedly answering something Katniss said, and the slamming door shuts off whatever Katniss would say in respond. Roughly, the two Peacekeepers shove Tulip down the hall towards me. _

_On shaking legs, she staggers to the bench and deflates next to me. We're both visibly upset. _

"_Gale, I'm…" she chokes out. "I'm _so_ sorry." There are tears burning at the corners of her eyes. _

_All I can bring myself to say is, "She volunteered." _

_She makes a distressed noise and jumps to her feet. "But why? Why did she have to volunteer for me? It's all my fault—"_

"_It's not your fault," I force out in a strained voice. "It's mine. She did it for me… so that I wouldn't lose you."_

_Tulip chokes on her own tears. "Gale, don't say that—"_

"_It'll be my fault," I say. There's real pain in my voice. "It'll be my fault if she dies… I won't be able to live with myself."_

"_She has a chance, though," Tulip says softly. "You can't think like that yet." _

_I lose control of my mouth as I say, "That's the exact same thing that Katniss said to me. She told me she has a chance of winning." The thought of her face when she said that brings an unwarranted smile to my face, and I am filled with revulsion at myself. _

_I drop my head back against the wall, and I hear Tulip sit down next to me. There's silence for a long time._

"_She asked me to take care of you," she says quietly. I let out a groan, but she continues anyway. "She also asked me to help take care of her family."_

_I immediately start in. "Tulip, you don't—"_

"_It's the least I could do," she insists. "Katniss saved my life today. I would have been the first to die in the Games. At least we know Katniss has a chance."_

"_Of course she has a chance," I say grudgingly. "She's going to kick as much Capitol ass as possible."_

_Despite the fact that that statement was really treasonous, Tulip and I both smile a bit. At this point, I'm beyond controlling my anger at the Capitol. Self-control is the furthest thing from my mind. _

"_Katniss also told me to tell you that there's a present for you in the forge," Tulip says. She gives me a significant look like I'm supposed to understand that. _

"_That forge?"_

"_Oh, you know what she means!" Tulip says, rolling her eyes. _

_It takes me a second, but then I get it. The forest. There's a present waiting for me in the forest._

"_Dammit all, Katniss," I sigh. I glance up at the clock on the wall across from me, and it seems we have about twenty minutes before the tribute train pulls out of the station. I give another heavy sigh and stand up. "Let's go."_

_Tulip stands up, and I take her hand, mostly because I need something to hold on to. Something needs to be there to keep my steady. _

_We leave the Justice Building in complete silence, but there's still quite a bustle going on in the square. All around, Capitol officials and District Twelve citizens alike watch us with pitying glances. They're sorry for my loss. They're sorry that Tulip has to live with the guilt. _

_I shrug off their pitying stares and head towards the Meadow. Once we're out of sight of all the people in the square, I turn to Tulip. _

"_We've got time before the train leaves, so I'm going to go see what Katniss left me in the forest," I say quietly. My voice sounds deflated. "If I were you, I'd go find your family. They'll want to see you."_

_Tulip nods numbly. "I'll see you later, okay?" I nod, and she wanders off towards the merchant's strip so that her parents can revel in their daughter's safety. I'm left feeling empty. _

_I don't even bother to check and see if there are any Peacekeepers watching before I slip under the fence because I know they're all either swarming at the Justice Building or they're already at the train station. None of them will notice the lone figure slipping through the trees. _

_It doesn't take my long to find the hallow tree where we stash our weapons. Everything looks like it normally does, so I plunge my hand into the hole in the tree. I grab my bow and arrows first to clear more space, and then I go back in for hers. _

_That's when I notice that her quiver is unusually heavy. This must be where my "present" is. I close my hands around all the arrows and pull them out. _

_Sure enough, down in the bottom of the quiver, there are three fancy Peacekeeper knives. They're nicely tied together around the handles, and it seems oddly like Katniss (ignoring the fact that she has no idea how she's stealing these knives). _

_I smile slightly, shaking my head, and pocket one of the knives. _

_Thanks for the present, Catnip._

_/_

A few minutes later, when we arrive at the District Twelve train station, Peacekeepers converge around the vehicle and escort us onto the platform. The train sitting on the other side sticks out like a sore thumb against the coal-covered, ragged scenery of our district. It registers somewhere deep in my chest that this fancy train is going to be the thing that steals me away from my home, but at least I'll spend my last few days.

Dough Boy and I are given a moment to say goodbye to all the people that came to watch us get carted off to our deaths. It's mostly Capitol cameras and officials in the small area around the platform, but there are some District Twelve citizens.

I don't bother to look for Prim and mother because I know they could never handle coming to see me leave, but I'm surprised when I don't see Gale's face in the crowd. Maybe it would be too hard for him, too…

While I'm distracted by thinking about Gale's feelings, a hand gently touches my shoulder. I turn around to see that Pillsbury Peeta .

"We have to get on the train now," he says.

I nod numbly and follow him to the train's doors. The split second after we step through the threshold, the automatic doors slide shut behind us, and I feel painfully cut off from my home. I turn back around, looking through the window on the door, and I try to take in as much of the District as I can before I leave.

I let my eyes run over the gray-blue sky. The dirt and gravel roads. The green of the trees just beyond the fence.

Then, I notice someone pushing their way to the platform. My heart fills with a strange sort of satisfaction as Gale appears in front of the rest of the crowd. He looks thoroughly disappointed as he notices that we're no longer on the platform, but I pound on the glass once, and he catches sight of me.

Carefully, he reaches into the inside pocket of his jacket and holds something out so that only I can see. A flash of silver catches the sunlight, and I realize that it's a Peacekeeper knife. A smile appears on my face, and I find myself satisfied with leaving him such a frustrating present.

I look back up at him, and he rolls his eyes. He mouths, "You have a serious problem," to me. At first, I think he's saying, "You are a delirious goblin," but eventually I get it through my unstable and insane brain that Gale would never say that.

I offer him one final smile, hoping that he knows how much his friendship has meant to me over these past few years, and Gale manages to conjure a look of amusement. Then, the train gives a jolt, and I find myself panicking more than I panicked when Gale was dragged out of my room in the Justice Building. A million things that I still want to say to him flood in my mind, and I press my palm against the glass, trying to reach him one last time.

He looks at me seriously and mouths, "Katniss, I'll miss you. Be careful. You'll be back soon. Just remember, I—"

The train explodes forward, and Gale's last words to me are cut off once again. I throw myself at the window, desperately screaming his name and pounding on the glass like it'll get the train to stop. Faster than I thought possible, the train station starts to grow smaller and smaller, and the little tiny dot that Gale has become lowers his hand from his final wave.

I give the window one more weak pound, and then Effie comes up tentatively behind me. She gently touches my arm. "Come along, dear," she says. "It's time to meet Haymitch and have dinner."

When she talks about Haymitch, she sounds less than pleased, and, frankly, so am I. I already know he's a drunk, so what's the point in meeting him.

I sigh and turn to follow Effie, and I feel my last words to Gale wither and die unspoken on my tongue.

/

"Holy shit."

That's my first reaction to the tribute train.

Effie lets out a loud scoff and clutches her chest. "Katniss, what an unladylike thing to say!"

"It's fitting," I reply under my breath.

This individual room is probably worth more than my life. Hell, the chandelier alone is probably worth enough to buy me as a child slave in the black market. Everything is shinier and more lush than anything I've ever seen in my life. There are crystal chandeliers hanging just in this tiny space. The bar, fully stocked with all sorts of food, is probably bigger than my entire house. The chairs and mahogany table ooze wealth.

Effie totters into the room. "Peeta, where on earth did Haymitch go?" she asks, hands on her hips.

Peeta spins around in one of the plush blue chairs like a child. "He wandered off in that direction, muttering about how he needed more to drink," he says, pointing towards the door at the rear of the car.

Effie makes a frustrated noise and stomps towards the door, muttering, "The bar car again?" I wait until I can't hear her pointed shoes clicking anymore until I sit down in the furthest seat from Peeta.

Apparently he doesn't take the hint that I don't want to talk because he breaks the silence after only about a minute. "Katniss, why did you volunteer for that girl?" he asks quietly.

I look down at my hands, drawing out the silence until it becomes unbearable. "I said when I got up on stage that I don't like to watch my friends suffer," I say in a hard, unfriendly voice.

But Doughy Peeta lets out a sigh. "Katniss, you've plotting to kill Tulip every day during lunch for the past month. It doesn't seem like you're friends."

"So?" I blurt angrily, still staring down at my hands. How does Peeta know that I've been angry at Tulip? Has it been that obvious?

"Oh," Peeta says, like he suddenly understands everything. "It wasn't about Tulip at all, was it? You only volunteered because she's your friend's girlfriend, huh?"

I bristle, and it probably tells him that he's right. I spin my chair so that I'm facing away from him because I find myself oddly creeped out for a moment. This Peeta guy seems to know an awful lot about my life…

We sit in silence.

Peeta breaks it again. "Katniss, that's a beautiful thing you did for your friend. You're incredibly brave."

I don't respond.

Luckily, Effie comes stomping back into the compartment before Pillsbury Peeta can say anything else. I spin my chair back around to see that she's not accompanied by Haymitch, and she looks really irked.

She forces a pleasant smile onto her face and sits down at the fancy dinner table, beckoning us over. "Haymitch will… not be joining us for dinner," she says, choosing her words carefully. "He has retired to his room already."

That's just a polite way of saying "Haymitch is too drunk to be around people, especially people whose lives count on his sobriety."

Peeta and I both take a seat at the table, not next to each other, thankfully. We are served an extravagant dinner, and, since I haven't eaten much in a while, I gobble everything that is set in front of me. My whole "I-must-starve-myself-in-order-to-make-Gale-come-h unting-again" thing is pointless now, so the smartest thing I can do while in the Capitol is to gain as many pounds as possible.

So I disregard all manners.

Effie ignores me throughout the dinner because she's disgusted at my behavior, but I'm really okay with that. She contents herself with talking to Peeta because he appears to be pacing himself nicely.

Whatever. I don't care if Effie disapproves of my wild eating. I'm starving, and they don't call them the Hunger Games for no reason.

/

A long time later, Effie and Peeta are discussing what it's like to be a baker over slices of chocolate cake when the door to the car opens, and our unfortunate mentor staggers in, sloshing alcohol out of the bottle he's holding.

"I missed dinner?" he asks, slurring his words.

"Yes, you did," Effie replies contemptuously. She doesn't even look at him.

Haymitch stares around the room for a couple seconds through clouded eyes and then promptly vomits all over the expensive carpet.

Effie lets out a long shriek and flees the room, leaving me and Peeta to deal with the mess at hand.

/  
_I sit at home, unwilling to talk to anyone. It was hard enough getting all the pitying stares as I walked away from the train platform, and now I have to endure them from my own family._

_In a few weeks, I could lose my hunting partner._

_No, that sounded too unfeeling. She means more to me than that. She's my best friend. She and Prim are like younger sisters to me. It would kill me to lose her- especially in the Hunger Games. I'm comforted by the fact that she left with us on good terms, but I still wish she hadn't gone at all._

_By tomorrow evening, she'll be in the Capitol. They'll take her, dress her up as a coal miner, and parade her around like a pig raised for slaughter. And I will have to watch. Because I am a lowly citizen of Panem, I will be forced to watch my best friend, hundreds and hundreds of miles away, be shipped off to her possible death._

_I close my eyes and tell myself that she'll be okay. She has a fighting chance- she told me that. She'll win._

_She has to. For the sake of my sanity, she has to._

/

Haymitch collapses into his puddle of vomit.

"Oh my god," I groan. He sits up, his whole front covered in the mess.

Peeta goes over to him. "Come on, Haymitch," he says, somewhat exasperatedly. "Let's get you to your room and clean you up a bit." I grudgingly help Pillsbury Peeta haul Haymitch to his feet. The stench is almost unbearable, and my unreasonably large dinner threatens to make a reappearance. But we make it to Haymitch's room nonetheless. Peeta throws his limp body unceremoniously into the bathtub and turns on the cold water full blast.

"You know, as much as I'd like to strip my mentor naked and scrub the vomit from his chest hair, I think I might…" My voice trails off.

"I'll take it from here," Peeta says. "You can just go to your room, okay?"

I nod and leave the room with a second glance. When I get in my room, I find an immense closet. There's a large round rotating machine with endless amounts of clothes on it. All you have to do is type in a request on this little keypad, and the machine spins around and sends clothes to the front.

After several minutes of messing around with that, I select a fluffy robe and then pad across the room to a set of double doors that lead to my bathroom. The bathroom itself, I think, is almost as large as our house back in District 12. There's all this porcelain and gold-plating and marble and steel. The tub has at least five different taps. I turn them all on to see what they do. I press some buttons lined up along the wall, and they start giving off different scents. I end up picking orange because it reminds me of something back home, I just can't decide what…

As the tub is filling, I happen across a speaker system by the door. I hit the red call button, and a voice with the Capitol accent comes out of the speaker. "Yes, Ms. Everdeen, how may we assist you?"

"Who is this?"

"This is the kitchen, Ms. Everdeen. I believe you paged us."

"Oh, in that case," I say, "I'll take a piece of chocolate cake." As an afterthought, I add, "With at least three of the biggest steak knives you can find." I'm not sure why I ask for those. It just slipped out of my mouth.

If that request seemed at all strange to the man on the phone, he doesn't react to it. "Of course, Ms. Everdeen."

I go back into my bathroom and get in the tub. It's filled with luxurious bubbles and delicious scents. The water is warmer than even our measly fires at home can heat our tepid water. I sink into with a sigh. A few minutes later, a Capitol attendant comes in with my cake and steak knives. I toss two of the knives onto the ground and use the other one to start eating my chocolate molten lava cake while I soak.

Someone knocks on my door, and I have to haul myself out of the tub. "Just a sec," I call as I throw on my robe, collect my cake, and head for the door. When I open it, I find Dough Boy on the other side.

"Yeah?" I say, helping myself to another bite of cake.

"Oh…sorry," he says, nothing my robe. "I'll just…go."

"No, no," I say. "Come in. I'm glad you came." He seems slightly uncomfortable with me in just a fluffy robe, but I don't mind. He'll probably be dead soon anyway…who cares what he sees? He sits down on my bed, and I offer him some cake, which he politely declines. We chatter idly until I finish my cake, and then he leaves.

I continue to find fun, exciting gadgets all over my room, and content myself with clapping my lights off and on for a couple minutes. I peek out my window, and I notice that the sky's dark. I'm not the least bit tired, so I continue to wander around my room. I start feeling really jittery and lonely, so I call Peeta.

"Hey, Peeta."

"What?" he groans. I wander over to my closet to select pajamas.

"Hey, is your closet like mine?" I ask. "Because-"

"What?" groans Pillsbury Peeta again. "Katniss…it's nearly midnight."

"Is it really?"

"Yeah…goodnight, Katniss."

"Goodnight."

I click around my closet for a while, but everything it offers me is pink. I end up going to bed in my underwear.

I dream that I'm back at home, and I'm with Gale, and we're happy with each other again. We hunt like usual and hang out at our regular meeting spot. The dream makes me happy…but also sad. Before I can savor the glimmer of happiness, the dream rapidly changes and suddenly, I'm in the arena and Peeta's stabbing me to death with my other two steak knives.

/

I wake up disoriented. I sit up slowly. There's something thick and sticky on my face. My hand reaches up to touch the fluffy substance, and it comes away bright pink. I hold it up to my tongue. Tastes sugary and sweet. How'd that get on my face? And what is it?

Then my sluggish mind processes where I am. I'm sitting in the hallway of the train right outside my bedroom door. _Why am I asleep in the hallway?_

Then, I find the source of the pink stuff on my face. There's partially eaten chocolate cake in my lap. It's frosted with happy, pink icing. There's a large butcher's knife sticking out of the top.

There's something very wrong with me.

I stand and try to open my door before someone sees me. It's locked from the inside, so I can't get in. It takes me another thirty minutes to find a Capitol attendant and get my door unlocked. Luckily, the attendant doesn't react to my appearance. I am standing, locked out of my room, wearing nothing but my underwear, with a half-eaten cake and a steak knife and pink frosting on my face and in my hair.

I go immediately to my crazy closet for something to wear. I put on the first things I can grab. I end up wearing turquoise skinny jeans, a pink sleeveless shirt, and a lemon-yellow leather jacket. I pin on Madge's pin for good luck. When I enter the dining cart, Peeta, Haymitch, and Effie are eating breakfast. Peeta snickers when he sees what I'm wearing, but I conveniently do not care.

I am served a huge platter of food with ham, eggs, and fried potatoes. I am given a tureen of fruit on ice and a basket of rolls. There's a glass of orange juice and a thick brown liquid at my seat. I start cramming food into my mouth.

Peeta sends me a look and says, "How can you eat so much food?"

"I haven't eaten in four days," I bark. I take a sip of the brown liquid. It tastes amazing. Is that…chocolate? The Capitol attendant that brought me my cake and steak knives comes in, and I ask him if I can have some coffee.

Pillsbury Peeta snorts. "Like you need coffee."

"Shut up, Dough Boy," I hiss. There's a long, drawn-out silence.

Peeta breaks the silence by turning to Haymitch. "So, you're supposed to give us advice."

Haymitch doesn't glance up until Peeta repeats it. He laughs bitterly and takes a swig from his hip flask. "Here's some advice: Stay alive."

"Ha ha, very funny," Peeta says. "I think that's enough for you." He plucks the flask out of Haymitch's hand. A fire lights in Haymitch's eyes, and he nails Peeta hard in the face with his fist. Suddenly, I'm whipping a knife out of my leather jacket that I didn't know existed.

"Where _did_ you get that knife?" shrieks Effie.

I stab the knives into the wood table between Haymitch's hand and a new alcohol glass. "Let's start with something easy," I growl quietly. "How do you find shelter? Find water?"

Haymitch laughs again. I am hit by the smell of alcohol, and I cringe a little. "So I've got a pair of fighters this year, have I?" He laughs at me again, and I have to cross my arms over my chest. "Can you hit anything besides a placemat with that knife?" he asks me.

Without responding, I chuck my knife at the wall behind Haymitch's head, and it lodges in the wall. It sticks in the seam between two boards, so I look even better than I am.

"Any advice now?" I ask sharply.

Haymitch pauses. "Accept the probability of your imminent death, and know, in your heart, that there's nothing I can do to save you."

I whip out another knife, this time from my belt, and point it at his jugular. "Any _real_ advice?"

But I am distracted before he can say anything. We're approaching the Capitol.

/

Pillsbury Dough Boy Peeta stands at the window, waving like there's no tomorrow. He looks ridiculous, but, as I watch the blur of colors that are really Capitol citizens rush by outside my window, I realize that he's smart for doing that.

I join Peeta at the window and wave at the crazy Capitol people. This must look amazing to them. Two tributes waving next to each other, ready to face the Games.

_I'll put on a good show_, I think to myself, _but just to get back home._

/

_When I go hunting later, no one is there to yell at me for being late. _

_Thinking about that makes me sick. If only we could go back to yesterday when yelling at me for my tardiness would be in the forefront of her mind instead of strategies for winning the Games. I wouldn't even care that she'd be yelling at me— at least I'd be able to hear her voice. _

_At least she'd still be here._

_Beyond being lonely for her company, I realize just how much more effective we are together as a team than we are separate. It's so incredibly different hunting without her in ways that I never thought about. I never stopped to think about how much we did as a team without speaking or even thinking. _

_Standing out there in the silent forest all by myself, I've never felt so alone._

* * *

_A/N: Thanks to everyone that's reviewed so far! Please continue to give us feedback! What did you think of this chapter?_


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four: Crazy Katniss Plays With Fire**

The first thing they do in the Capitol is strip me naked, and that's when I know I'm in for a trip.

First, it means that I no longer have any privacy with my body, which can't be a good experience for anyone. Second, it leaves me with no chance of finding a stolen knife on myself, so I have no way of protecting myself. However, I don't think stabbing my prep team would give me a good start in the Capitol, so perhaps it was a good choice to strip me down.

_Ri-i-i-i-p._ I launch up into a sitting position, letting out a gasp of breath, as all the hair is ripped out my leg. The three members of my prep team all jump backwards at my sudden movement and huddle warily by the wall. They've been acting shifty and nervous since the moment I first walked in here, so it doesn't really surprise me when they start whispering to each other conspiratorially.

The water coming out of a pipe next to me drowns out whatever they're saying. "What are you talking about?" I ask loudly.

"Nothing," the orange-haired guy says far too quickly.

"What are you going to do?" I ask, directing them in a different direction.

"Nothing," the teal-haired woman squeaks too.

I stare at them suspiciously, and then the woman with pea green skin dives at a button on the wall. I don't even have time to question what's going to happen before bindings spring out of the table I'm lying on and snap around my wrists and ankles.

"What are these for?" I ask loudly, trying to struggle against them. Unfortunately, they're made of solid metal, so I doesn't appear that I'll be escaping from them too quickly.

"It's for your own good," the green-skinned woman says nervously.

"My _own _good?" I snap back.

"Alright, fine, _our _good," she says. She glances over at my pile of clothing in the corner. "We found knives in your clothes, and you kids from the out-lying districts always act so shifty…"

"I wasn't going to hurt you!" I say sharply.

"Even if that is true, I still think it's safer…" the guy says.

He picks up a pair of tweezers, and all three of them approach me like I'm some kind of animal. Angrily, I flop back down on the table and let them get back to work. Maybe if I'm compliant, this'll go a little bit faster.

My prep team finishes stripping my body of all of its hair, and then they proceed to scrub me down in this thick, gritty foam that takes away at least three layers of my skin. By the end of that time, every square inch of my skin is stinging.

After that, they pluck my eyebrows, make my finger nails perfect half-moons, and lotion my entire body. I try to ignore the fact that I feel tender to the touch, but I do feel incredibly soft.

My prep team scurries over to the door in a pack, and the brave pea green-skinned woman smashes the button again to let me out of my bindings. They practically sprint out of the room like they think I'm going to attack them. I guess it's not that terrible of a thing to have them be scared of me. It keeps them quiet.

I sit in the room by myself for a couple of silent minutes, and I take that time to ponder who my stylist will be. All the district stylists are totally whacked-up— I mean, who else would want this job? They're all old and colorful and vulgar and annoying.

That's why I'm sort of surprised when a normal-looking, young, plain man walks in. The only thing that makes him look vaguely Capitol-esque is the thin line of gold eyeliner.

I don't even let him speak. "Are you going to strap me down as well?" I ask tightly. "If so, the button is right there by the door."

My stylist actually has the audacity to smile. "Katniss, I'm not going to strap you down. I don't think you're too dangerous."

He doesn't appear to be lying, so I awkwardly look down at my feet to avoid making eye contact.

He clears his throat. "I'm Cinna, by the way," he says. "You can put this robe on, and we can talk."

He holds out a thin, purple robe, and I immediately wrap myself in it. Cinna walks over to the window and beckons for me to follow. We both take a seat in either of the oddly-shaped chairs, staring out into the Capitol from our aerial view.

"So…" I say slowly. "You're here to make me look pretty."

"Not exactly," he says evenly, not at all put off by my bluntness. "I'm here to help you make a statement at the tribute parade. I want to make sure no one forgets about District Twelve this year."

That strikes me as odd. Normally, our stylists are annoyed at being placed in the worst district, so they don't bother to try. Mostly, District Twelve's tributes are naked with coal dust rubbed all over their skin. Sometimes, if we're lucky, they get a mining helmet.

"This year I think I'm going to focus on coal," Cinna says.

And my suspicions are confirmed. I'll be naked with coal dust for sure.

"And what do we do with coal?" Cinna asks. When I don't respond, he answers himself. "We burn it."

He looks at me with a grin that says I'm supposed to understand what he's talking about, so I smile awkwardly at him and hope that that suffices. All I can pray for is a helmet. At least then the light will be a distraction from my naked body.

/

_The next morning, when I wake up, I feel like I've just woken up into a fresh nightmare. I almost can't force myself to go to school since today seems like a perfectly good day to disappear into the forest for hours on end, but eventually, I'm able to convince myself that distracting my mind from the matters at hand seems like a good idea. _

_I drag myself into the kitchen, and the first thing that pops into my head is the fact that Katniss was starving and now she's being stuffed like a pig in the Capitol. That thought alone makes me too sick to eat anything. _

_I attempt to walk straight out of the room, but my mother materializes out of nowhere and touches my arm. _

_I hide all emotion on my face and look at her, trying to make it seem as though everything's fine. _

_Being my mother, she sees right past it. "Gale, are you alright?" she asks. She knows the answer, though. _

_She doesn't try to stop me a second time when I slide past her to get out of the room. _

_/_

Somehow, I end up actually wearing clothes.

When I look at myself in the mirror, I must say that I look impressive. I'm wearing a skin-tight jumpsuit with red, yellow, and orange accents. Then, I have black leather boots that lace to my knees and a fiery headdress to go on top of my braided hair.

On our way out of the room, Cinna tells me that Peeta's going to be wearing pretty much the same thing, and it almost makes me laugh. Imagining Pillsbury Peeta in this jumpsuit is kind of comical.

Cinna ignores my sniggers and leads me down to the Remake Center, where all the horses are kept. All around, there are twenty-three other tributes getting arranged on their chariots in varying degrees of costume. I don't see any tributes getting sent on the parade completely naked, but the "power plant workers" from District Five come pretty close.

Eventually, in the far back of the stables, we find a chariot with coal-black horses attached to it. Peeta and his stylist are already waiting for us, and Peeta does, in fact, look a tad uncomfortable in his jumpsuit. He keeps tugging at the sleeves every few seconds.

Cinna helps me up onto the chariot, and Peeta follows immediately. It appears that we were cutting it a little close because the huge doors to the Remake Center open to let District One out just as soon as we're both situated on the chariot.

"I'll be right back with the fire," Cinna says as he runs off, once again expecting me to understand what he's talking about.

"What do you mean _fire?" _I shout after him.

Peeta's stylist looks at me quizzically. "He didn't explain it to you?" I shake my head. "We're using synthetic fire to make it appear as though you're a piece of burning coal. It's nothing to worry about, really. It won't burn you."

I'm still not really keen on being set on fire, but I don't think I have much of a choice in the matter.

By the time Cinna returns with a torch of fake fire, District Nine is pulling out onto the road. We're so close that I can almost see out the giant doors into the colorful blur of the Capitol. Cinna moves to the front of the chariot and reaches out with the torch. I can't help but flinch away slightly as he lights our capes and headdresses on fire.

He doubles over, out of breath, and tosses the synthetic fire aside. "Remember, heads high, big smiles—"

Without another word of instruction, the chariot lurches forward, and Peeta and I are thrown out into the crowded streets.

The sound of cheering crowds is deafening, and the amount of color and excitement almost blinds me. Somewhere down the street, I see a giant monitor, displaying an image of our chariot barreling down the road.

Out of nowhere, an announcer shouts, "District Twelve!" and there seems to be a slight gasp of shock from the crowd. If Cinna's goal was for us to make an impression, it's safe to say he accomplished that.

The intensity of the cheering goes from deafening to mind-numbing within a millisecond, and it's all I can do to stay composed. I focus my attention on the screen off in the distance, and I get a good look at the two of us.

We are radiant and almost magical-looking. The flames light my face up in the evening darkness in a way that makes me seem so powerful. Even Doughy Peeta manages to look amazing. The sight of the two of us and the cheers of the crowd fill me with a sudden confidence, and it puts this uncharacteristic smile on my face.

I throw my hand in the air and start waving at all the Capitol citizens, and they go berserk. It's like they've never seen anything this impressive in their entire lives.

A rose that was thrown from the crowd strikes me on the face, and I'm so startled that I barely manage to catch it. I almost fall off the back of the chariot, but Peeta puts his arm behind me and puts me back in the right place.

I clutch the rose to my chest and blow a kiss in the general direction that the rose came from. The people in the audience topple over each other to catch my kiss, falling into a colorful heap. Looks like everyone wants my kisses.

A strange laugh escapes my lips, and I start to wave to the crowds again.

That's when Peeta does the unimaginable. I feel his fingers brush mine between us, and I flinch away immediately, pulling my hand in a fist. My expression falters for a fraction of a second, but I plaster a smile back on my face. His hand attempts to clasp mine again.

"What are you doing?" I hiss, trying to keep a smile on my face.

"Haymitch said it would be a good idea," he says. "Said the crowds would go wild."

I grit my teeth and allow him to grip my hand for an extent of time. Haymitch was right— the crowd about swoons. They scream with renewed fervor at our new movements. Peeta and I both force smiles onto our faces, and we appear to be the best of friends, grinning and waving like lunatics.

One man in particular seems to be going completely nuts for us (or mostly me). I can see him screaming my name and dangling himself over the barrier as far as he can go. I wink at him and (just for fun) I pull my hand out of Peeta's to shoot him with two finger guns.

That seems to send him over the edge because he shrieks, falls over the barrier, and tumbles to the ground. He lays there for a long enough amount of time that I start to become concerned that he's hurt, but he pops back up after a couple seconds and shouts, "I LOVE YOU, KATNISS!"

I smile my most pleasant smile and blow him a kiss. That sends him into hysterics, and he starts chasing our chariot. Two Peacekeepers converge on him out of nowhere and drag him back towards the barrier, and all I can do is laugh.

We pull into the City Circle as out parade comes to an end. Eleven other chariots are already in formation in front of the President's mansion, but the prestigious Capitol citizens that are watching around here seem way more interested in us than any of the other tributes.

The small, thin President Snow comes out onto his balcony after a moment or two, but I can't say that I'm paying any attention. My eyes wander over to the big screen on one side of the road. I know that it's customary to flash to images of the tributes, but Peeta and I seem to occupy more than our fair share of screen time.

All the other tributes are slightly in the dark now that the sun has set completely, but Peeta and I shine more prominently now than we did before. The red and orange flames cast such intriguing light over us that I can't tear my eyes from the screen.

Suddenly, our chariot starts to move again, and we're pulling into the Training center. We clatter through the massive doors, and I realize that I'm still holding Peeta's hand, and my fingers seem to be a little frozen within his. He doesn't seem to make any move to pull his hand from mine either.

By the time the doors shut, we have at least half the tributes staring at us. The Careers look especially vicious because they don't often get out shown.

Our horses lead us over to Cinna and Portia, who are both beaming at us. Portia puts out our fake fire with foam from a canister, and Cinna pulls me down from the Chariot and buries me in a hug. My hand is ripped from Peeta's, and it feels slightly cramped.

"You two were great!" Cinna says proudly.

Peeta looks over at me and smiles tentatively. "They especially loved you, Katniss," he says. "The flames really suit you."

He seems so shy and gentle when he says it that it almost comes across as genuine, but I have a sudden, distinct feeling that he's just trying to flatter me into being easy prey in the arena.

I decide that two can play at that game.

"Thank you, Peeta," I say, and I lean forward to kiss his cheek for good measure.

/

_Katniss is so unlike herself as they play the clip of her riding in that chariot over and over and over again. Sitting by my side, Prim watches her sister as though she's never seen her before. And I don't blame her. If the announcer hadn't stated their names, I wouldn't have recognized her. _

_She is too confident and too charismatic to be the Katniss Everdeen who left on the train yesterday. My Katniss would never shoot a Capitol citizen with a finger gun or smile at them or even raise a hand to wave. And when she allows the baker's kid to take her hand, it seems like an entirely new person has invaded her body. _

_But despite all that, District Twelve has hope for once. Katniss Everdeen is a clear stand-out, and everyone in Panem is simply taken by her. Finally, it seems, there's a chance for someone from this district to come back from the Capitol on their feet rather than in a casket. _

_The replays of the Tribute Parade stop, and the TV screen goes black. _

_Almost immediately, Posy crawls into my lap and buries her face in my neck. I see a little smile on her face as she says, "Catnip will be home soon, right, Gale?" _

_I flinch internally. Posy's too young to understand what the Hunger Games are. She's too young to understand the danger that Katniss is in at this very moment. She's too young to understand that nothing could possibly guarantee that Katniss will come home— not even her skill and intelligence can guarantee that. _

"_Of course, Posy," I say, but I don't fully believe the words coming out of my mouth. "Of course. She'll be home real soon."_

_Posy seems satisfied with that answer because she bounces off my lap and bobs out of the room. My mom watches me deflate back against the couch, trying to force myself to believe in Katniss's safety. _

_My mother reaches over and takes my hand. "Keep the faith, Gale," she says. "You've just got to keep the faith." _

_Yes, I have to keep the faith, but what will happen if my hopes get too high?_

/

Peeta and I are escorted to a massive elevator made entirely of crystal that will take us up to the penthouse. Considering that I've only ever been on an elevator once before in my life, stepping onto the elevator is a bit like magic.

My first elevator trip was in the Justice Building four years ago when I had to go receive the medal of honor for my father's death. Those few seconds that I spent in that small elevator were suffocating, and it seemed to take a piece of me with it forever as I was forced to say goodbye to my father forever.

I am quickly distracted from the memory because the elevator starts gliding upwards, and I can watch all the people on the ground turn into ants as we soar into the sky. I get so excited over the whole thing that I ask Effie if we can ride it again even though that seems childish.

Pillsbury Peeta nods his head fervently, agreeing with me, as he watches all the little bugs on the ground floor run around. Effie seems a little put-off by the childishness, but she tells us we can ride it tomorrow morning.

I am about to insist that we should be allowed to ride down and back up again, but then I catch sight of the penthouse itself. If I thought the elevator was magical, our living quarters are something out of this world.

It's so modern and clean and gorgeous that I have to blink a couple seconds to make sure I'm not dreaming. A District Twelve citizen could only dream of ever seeing a place like this…

"Your rooms are to the right," Effie says happily. "I'll call you to dinner soon. You can change into whatever you'd like."

Peeta and I both wander down to our rooms, which are even more spectacular than our rooms on the train. The decorations themselves are fantastic, but I notice at least twenty buttons on the wall and I am floored.

I decide to take a shower as an excuse to try out all the buttons in the bathroom. There is a button for everything you could ever want— oils, scents, temperature, bubbles, soap, everything. And once I get out of the shower, instead of having to wrestle a comb through my hair, I just have to put my hand on another button, and my hair is dried instantly.

I get dressed in a casual outfit that my closet spits out, and I wander over to a mouthpiece in the corner of my room. If I thought the buttons in the shower were cool, this gadget must be the most wonderful thing in existence. There's a tiny menu in front of the microphone, so I can order whatever I want, and it will appear within minutes, hot and steamy.

I end up ordering an entire chocolate cake for myself, despite the fact that dinner will be served soon. I get about a quarter of the way through the cake before Effie comes to collect me.

"It's time for dinner," she says excitedly. Then her eyes land on the cake. "What on earth have you been doing?"

I look down at the cake and then back up at Effie. "I ordered this cake, and I started eating it."

Effie gives a sigh. "Well, just leave that here, and come along to dinner."

The Seam in me starts screaming, and the idea of leaving almost an entire cake here to be thrown away seems sickening. And Effie said it so casually, like it didn't matter. Suddenly, all the novelty of the buttons and gadgets wears off, and I become wholly enraged with the Capitol once again.

"I intend to finish this," I tell Effie firmly.

A look of complete frustration flickers across her face, but she covers it up immediately. She takes in a deep breath, and her voice changes to short and clipped. "Katniss, don't be obstinate. You simply must come to dinner."

"No," I say in a steady voice. "I am going to sit here and finish this cake, and then I will join you at dinner, and I will probably eat more because my District is starving, and it only seems right to gain as much weight as I possibly can before going into the arena."

Effie blinks at me a couple times and then huffs away towards Peeta's room. She'll get him to come to dinner inevitably. He's more sociable, so he'll be better company at dinner anyway.

I pick my fork back up and continue eating the cake that I ordered, my anger with the Capitol's disgusting, inconsiderate tendencies boiling inside me.

/

"Look who finally decided to join us," Haymitch says as I enter the dining room. "The girl on fire herself."

I give a fake smile and curtsy as I take my seat. With much determination and self-motivation, I was able to finish my entire chocolate cake and still make it out to dinner. It appears that I've missed most of the meal, but I'm just in time for dessert.

I take my seat just as a red-haired woman dressed in a uniform walks in, carrying a large cake. Even though I'm more stuffed than I've ever been in my entire life, the appeal of the beautiful cake is enough to make me want to eat a little bit more.

The red-haired woman strikes a match and deftly lights the whole cake on fire. I let out a gasp and watch the flames burn down for a couple seconds.

Cinna smiles at me from down the table. "I ordered it special for your debut."

"How does it burn?" I ask, looking up at the red-haired woman who served the cake. "Does it— Hey, I know you!"

Between the gasps from the rest of the table and the startled look on the woman's face, I know I've done something very wrong. The woman flees the room, and I'm scrambling to try to back track.

"I'm sure you don't know her," Effie insists. "She's an Avox."

"An Avox?" I ask, making myself look even more stupid.

Haymitch, who seems surprisingly sober, supplies the answer. "Someone who's done something massively unspeakable," he says. "Normally treason. They get their tongues cut out, and then they're forced to serve the Capitol for the rest of their lives."

My heart falls into my stomach as I realize the memory associated with that woman must be a bad one. Now, not only have I put myself in suspicion, I've also just landed that Avox in a trouble too.

Cinna glances at me from down the table. "You probably didn't look at her properly," he says. He clears his throat and nods at the cake. "And it burns because of the alcohol in it, but it all burns off."

Despite Cinna's attempts to move conversation along, the room falls into eerie silence. My mind is whirring as I try to simultaneously get myself out of suspicion and remember where I've seen that woman.

Then Peeta speaks up. "Delly Cartwright," he says suddenly. "She's a right copy of Delly Cartwright."

There's a general sigh of relief around the room, but I find myself confused. Delly's a kind and wonderful girl, but she's pale, lumpy, and yellow-haired.

My brow furrows as I look at Peeta. "Delly looks like that Avox about as much as Effie looks like Haymitch."

Peeta kicks me under the table, and I realize that he's my savior. He's given me an easy out. "No, Katniss, she looks just like her," he insists. "Something about her eyes. Didn't you see?"

"Oh, of course!" I reply. "The eyes. They were just like Delly's!"

Effie lets out a relieved sigh. "Now, how about some cake in honor of our girl on fire?"

Dinner falls back into an easy banter, but every once and while Peeta looks over at me curiously, asking silently for an explanation that I don't want to give.

/

After everyone finishes their cake, Peeta and I are dismissed back to our rooms. Once we're out of earshot, Peeta looks over at me and raises an eyebrow. "So, Delly Cartwright, huh? Imagine finding her look-alike here."

He's searching for an answer, but I know I can't tell him where I've seen that Avox. And besides the necessity that it remains secret, I don't _want _to tell him either. He wants to know way too much about my life, and I'd find comfort in knowing that I have some things left for myself before I am slaughtered for entertainment.

I find myself so frustrated with the situation that I round on Peeta. "Look here, okay?" I snap. "If you're looking for an explanation, then you can go right into your room because I have no intentions of telling you anything about my life."

Peeta staggers backwards a bit. He looks slightly upset, like I've just wounded him or something. "I- I wasn't meaning to pry," he stutters. "You… you don't have to tell me."

I nod. "Good," I say. I try to return to being cheerful, but it seems a little fake. "In that case, what should we do? I'm not tired."

Peeta seems to be thrown for a loop by my mood swings, but he blinks a couple times and recovers himself. "Would you like to see the roof?" he asks. "Cinna and Portia, my stylist, took me up there while we were waiting for you to come to dinner."

"Sure," I reply.

Peeta leads me down the hall to a stair cause. We enter a small dome and then walk out onto the roof. I suppose this must be the only benefit of being from District Twelve— we get the top floor of the building. We can see the Capitol skyline in all directions, and the flashing lights cut across the dark sky above. I suddenly find myself imagining the sky that I used to see from the forest at home, and an awful sickness invades me.

Peeta recognizes my change in feeling, and he moves like he wants to talk to me, so I immediately start walking over to the edge. We pass a nice rooftop garden, but that doesn't distract me for long.

I wander over to the barrier that separates me from a straight drop down twelve floors and lean down against it. I look towards the horizon, and I can't make out the landscape that creates a division between the Capitol and the Districts. I wonder which direction home is, and I want nothing more than to run in the direction until I'm all the way back in my run-down house with Prim.

Pillsbury Peeta and I stand in silence for a long time, watching the gaudily dressed Capitol citizens running around in the streets below us.

Peeta swallows awkwardly. "Did you know that there's an electric field that prevents tributes from trying to jump?" he asks.

I find myself suddenly imagining past tributes from District Twelve trying to pitch themselves to their death in order to avoid the arena. Peeta and I could be standing in the exact same spot that they made a decision to throw away their lives.

I lean forward on my palms. "Do think there's actually an electric field or do they just tell us that so that we don't try to jump?"

Peeta shrugs. "I would guess that there is one. It seems like something they'd put up here."

I suddenly find myself wanting to test it. Maybe it's just because I want to make things hard on the Capitol people in charge of these types of things or maybe I'm just curious. I'm not really sure.

I jog back over to the rooftop garden and grab a sizable rock from beneath one of the exotic plants. Peeta looks really puzzled, but, before he can ask me what I'm about to do, I toss the rock over the barrier.

The rock plummets for a couple seconds, but then it stops midair and flies backwards towards me. Instantly, a high-pitched alarm starts blaring from all directions, and the electric field starts blinking bright red.

"Oh shit," I say quietly.

Without saying a word, Peeta and I both start sprinting towards the dome. We run straight down the stairs and into Peeta's room since it's closest. Peeta collapses onto his bed, and I sink down the wall onto the floor. Not two seconds after we shut the door, we hear feet pounding down the hallway and up the stairs to the roof.

I start laughing hysterically for pretty much no reason, and Peeta awkwardly starts laughing too. I have to shove my fist into my mouth to quiet myself so that no one hears us from outside.

A couple minutes turn into twenty before the Peacekeepers stomp down from the roof and leave our penthouse. I wait a moment or two before standing up to leave. Before I can slip out of the room, Pillsbury Peeta stops me.

"Wait, Katniss," he says quietly. "Will you please tell me when you've seen that Avox before?"

I let out a dark sigh, but not even my frustration with him is enough to ruin my relatively good mood. I decide to humor him in order to get him off my back. "I just saw her in the black market once," I lie through my teeth. "That's all."

"Oh," Peeta says, and it seems like he believes me. "Were you with your dad?"

I stop short and drop my hand from the doorknob. I am once again struck by how much Peeta knows about my life. I suppose my dad used to trade squirrels with Peeta's dad, but it still seems odd that Peeta would know that we would go to the black market.

I shake my head. "No, I was with my friend, Gale." Just the thought of Gale makes me depressed.

"Was Gale the one who pulled your sister away from you at the reaping?" Peeta asks, his voice curious.

"Uh huh," I reply slowly. For knowing so much about my life, it seems odd that he can't match Gale's face with a name. "You don't know him?" I ask.

"No," Peeta replies. "I just saw you occasionally with a guy, and I hear all the girls talking about a Gale."

My heart sinks down into my stomach again. I was already thinking about Gale, but now I'm reminded that Gale's closer to his girlfriend than he is to me now. I suddenly feel a lump in my throat, and I slip out of Peeta's room.

In the hall, I am bombarded by Effie, who asks me a million questions about what Peeta and I have been doing and whether or not we have been on the roof. In response, I ask her what the sirens were all about, and she decides that we had nothing to do with it. I think she starts asking me more questions, but I'm too wrapped up in my own thoughts.

I'm thinking about when Gale and I actually saw that Avox.

We weren't in the black market like I told Peeta. We were in the forest. We were just hunting like normal when someone ran into the clearing that we were standing near. We instantly went to hide behind some rocks in case it was a Peacekeeper or something, but it was just a girl. She was running, and she was running from something. A hovercraft appeared in the sky just above the trees, and she let out a scream. I wonder now if that was her last scream. I wasn't thinking about that at the time. I was only concerned that the people in the hovercraft had seen us, but I guess we were safely hidden behind the rocks.

I can't help but think that if we were just a little more visible, we would be in the same position as the woman.

I fall forward onto my bed and decide to just sleep in my clothes. It's too much effort to get up.

/

_Prim stays at our house long after the replays of the tribute parade stop showing, and I honestly can't say I blame her. Her mother went home about an hour ago, claiming that she needed to be home in case anyone needed her medical assistance, but I think we could all tell that she was already retreating far into herself. I can't blame Prim for wanting to stay somewhere where she won't be alone. _

_She's sitting in the corner with Vick and Rory. My brothers are playing some sort of game, and Prim is watching them, smiling in a way that says she's trying to be happy but not really succeeding. _

_My mom sets her hand on my shoulder. "It's getting late. You should walk Prim home." _

_I glance over at the clock and drag myself out of my chair. "Prim, it's probably time that you get home," I say. "I'll walk you." _

_I see the quick flicker of terror in her eyes when I mention going home, and it breaks my heart a little. I can't imagine what it must be like to be so alone. I, at least, have the rest of my family to keep me distracted, but Prim only has her mother, who is probably falling farther into depression as we speak. _

_The Seam is really quiet and dark as Prim and I wander out into the street. There's no light coming from any of the houses since the TVs have all been turned off, shutting away the Hunger Games until tomorrow night. _

_At least they can forget that easily. _

_I glance down at the little girl walking by my side, and suddenly she seems near tears. I flinch away as her eyes meet mine. _

"_Gale?" she asks in a voice that sounds cracked. "Why did Katniss volunteer?"_

_That strikes me hard in the chest like someone actually punched me. I know that the answer is something along the lines of "She volunteered so that I wouldn't lose my girlfriend" but I can't bring myself to say it. It would hurt too much. _

"_I'm not sure, Prim," is all I say. It doesn't seem like a sufficient answer, but there's nothing else to add. _

"_Do you think… she volunteered because she…" Prim trails off, tears boiling up in her eyes. "Because she wants to die?" _

_Suddenly I feel as though my legs are too weak to carry me, and I have to stop walking. Prim stops too, and two tears escape her eyes. _

_I crouch down so that we're closer to eye level and set my hands on her shoulders. "Why would you even think that?" I ask sharply. _

_Prim starts sobbing then. "She hasn't been eating and she's been really depressed and then she volunteered, and I just thought that maybe she wants to die and—"_

_Before she can say anymore, I pull her against my chest to stop the flow of words. _

_I suddenly feel myself under the weight of the most crushing guilt I've ever experienced. I can't help but think that everything Prim has said is entirely my fault. I knew that Katniss hadn't been eating, but I hadn't really processed that it was my doing. I never knew that ignoring her would cause something so terrible._

_I start blaming myself for everything. _

_If I had just gone hunting more often… If I had just been on time more often, maybe all of this wouldn't have happened. Katniss would be safe here in District Twelve, and life would go on as normal, but I was too selfish to see that I was hurting her. _

"_Don't you ever think that again," I whisper to Prim. Her body shakes with sobs. "Katniss does not want to die. That is not why she volunteered." _

_I neglect to add that she volunteered because she cares about me way more than I've been caring for her lately, but I'm too cowardly to admit that out loud to little Prim. _

_I hold Prim at arm's length, and the tear tracks on her face look really heartbreaking. _

"_Katniss made a really rash and odd decision to volunteer, but she has a chance to win," I say seriously. I try to believe my own words. "She's going to come home."_

Or I won't be able to live with myself.

"_She promised me that she'd try," Prim says weakly. _

"_And would she promise both of us that if she was suicidal?" I ask. Somehow my voice comes out confident, but, inside, I'm struggling with Katniss's motives. "I don't think she would."_

_Prim gives a fragile smile. "Thanks, Gale," she whispers. _

_I stand back up, and we start walking again, but I keep her close to my side. In what seems like a few minutes, we're standing in front of the Everdeens' house. _

"_Katniss is going to come home, Prim," I say before she disappears inside. _

_There's a ghost of a smile on her face as she nods and slips through the doorway. _

"_She's going to come home," I repeat to myself. If only there was a way I could guarantee that that would be true._

* * *

_A/N: As usual, thanks for reading, and tell us what you thought!_


	5. Chapter 5

_A/N: Have fun with this one, guys. This is when stuff starts getting weird. We had a fun time writing this one, for sure._

* * *

**Chapter 5: Krazy Katniss plays well with others**

The first thing I notice when I wake up is the overwhelming taste of blood in my mouth. My head is throbbing. I must have bitten the inside of my cheek last night because the wall of my mouth is ragged, bloody, and sore.

I yawn and stretch, and I suddenly find myself falling off of a chair and landing on the floor. I realize with a jolt that I'm not in my bedroom. I am sitting in the dining area, wearing a completely new outfit. Apparently, I changed clothes during the night because I am now wearing a gold, sequin-covered dress. There's even another chocolate cake on my lap that I ordered in my sleep.

This sleepwalking thing is really spiraling out of control…

I spit some blood out onto the front of the dress and onto the cake, and I notice that the red-headed Avox is standing nearby. I start to stutter out an apology, but I remember I'm not supposed to speak to her. I hurry out of the room before anything else can be done. I burst into my room and immediately strip off the sequined gown. I bang into the bathroom to clean myself off. I punch the shower's control board randomly and end up being attacked by streams of ice cold water and steaming hot water in rapid succession. I'm pretty sure I've woken up the whole building with my screaming before I hit the right combination of buttons to turn it off. The showerhead unleashes a steady stream of a thick, lemon-scented foam, and I have to scrape it off as it hardens on my skin.

I stumble out of the bathroom after my unsuccessful shower, and I find that someone has set out an outfit for me. I put on the tight black pants, the burgundy shirt, and the leather shoes. I braid my hair in an attempt to make myself feel more normal. I catch a glimpse of myself in a mirror, and I look like I could be heading out for a day of hunting with Gale.

The thought of Gale makes me feel like I've been punched in the stomach, and it's enough to make me flee my room and go to breakfast. Haymitch, Effie, and Peeta are all there waiting for me.

"You done screaming yourself hoarse in there, sweetheart?" Haymitch asks in between bites of stew. I don't respond.

I pile sausage, bacon, toast, pancakes, fruits, bread, meaty stew, hot grain, and more sausage onto my plate and remind myself that I need to gain as much weight as possible. I shovel some of it into my mouth, and I notice that Peeta and I are wearing the same outfit. This twin act is going to blow up in our faces when we get into the arena. I might even feel a little bad when Dough Boy dies in the Hunger Games if they keep forcing us to act friendly.

Haymitch has worked his way through three whole bowls of stew before he actually opens his mouth to say something important, but I interrupt him. "Why are we dressed the same?"

Haymitch sighs. "Sweetheart-"

"I don't like it," I say sharply.

He rolls his eyes and acts as though I never spoke. "Let's get down to business," he starts. "First off…training. I can train you separately if you'd like."

"Why?" Pillsbury Peeta asks.

"Some tributes like it," Haymitch explains, "if they have a secret talent."

"I don't have a secret talent," Doughy says immediately. "And I know what Katniss can do. I've eaten enough of her squirrels to know she can shoot."

"You can coach us together if it suits Doughy," I say in a forcefully polite voice. I take a bite of bacon, and Peeta looks puzzled as he processes his new nickname.

Haymitch nods. "So what can you do?"

"I can't do anything," Peeta says. "Unless you count baking bread or frosting cakes."

"Well, I don't," Haymitch says. "Katniss, I already know you're handy with knives." I nod, satisfied, and I realize that I've slipped one of the silver knives from the breakfast table into my pocket. I slyly drop it onto the ground.

"She can hunt, too," adds Pillsbury boy. "My dad buys her squirrels. She hits them in the eye every time."

I narrow my eyes at him suspiciously, afraid of an ulterior motive. He might be trying to make himself look weak so that others underestimate him. _Two can play at that game. _I turn to Haymitch. "Peeta's strong. He can lift hundred-pound sacks of flour over his head."

"So what?" says Peeta.

"He can wrestle too," I add. "He only came in second to his brother at a school competition."

"What's the point?" Peeta asks. "It's not helpful…like using a weapon."

"You'd win in hand-to-hand combat," I defend. "All you need is a knife!"

"Yeah, well, you'll be hiding in the trees, eating squirrels and picking people off with arrows," he shouts. Quickly, he adds, "You want to know what my mother said when she came to say goodbye. She said, 'Maybe District 12 will have a winner this year.'"

"She meant you, idiot," I bark.

"No, she didn't," he shouts back. "Afterwards, she said, 'she's a survivor, that one.' _She_ is."

"Oh," I say in a surprised voice.

Peeta rolls his eyes and addresses Haymitch. "She has no idea. The kind of effect she can have on people." I don't know how to take that, so I take an angry bite of a muffin.

After a little while, Haymitch says, "Okay, here's the plan. Katniss, steer clear of the knife-throwing and archery stations, got it? You can save all that for impressing the Gamemakers later. And Peeta, don't underestimate strength. Don't go to the weight-lifting station, got it?" We nod. Then, he adds, "In public, I want you by each other's side at all times." When we both start to protest, he says, "It's not up for discussion! You will act like friends at all times!" I sigh and take another angry bite of my muffin. "Meet Effie by the elevator at ten."

I storm back to my room and slam the door shut. I don't want to be buddy-buddy with baker boy. I want nothing to do with him! How am I going to watch him die in the arena if we're supposed to be friends? I angrily lay on my bed and stew until it's time to go.

I meet Effie by the elevator at ten with Peeta. We're about to get on the elevator when Effie stops me. "Katniss, are you carrying weapons?"

Apparently, I stole another knife at breakfast because there's a nice one tucked into my belt.

"Katniss, that is against the rules!" Effie scolds.

I sigh. "Effie, half the time I don't know I have them."

Effie blathers on about rules for a couple minutes, and then we get on the elevator, leaving behind three more knives that I found in my pockets while Effie was ranting. As soon as we step into the Training Center, I realize two things: one, we're the last people to show up, and two, we're the only pair dressed the same. I knew this was going to blow up in our faces.

The Careers all look like they've got at least fifty pounds on me. There are guys here that could crack my spine with ease, and girls that could probably know fifty different ways to kill me with a knife. I'm thinking to myself that it's probably a good thing that I'm a fast runner when Peeta asks me where I want to go first. I pick the knot-tying station because that seems safe. The whole time the instructor is speaking, all I can think about is Gale and his natural talent for snares. Maybe I can learn something useful from this instructor and show off my new skills for Gale in the arena. It occurs to me that I might not live long enough to build any snares, and I get this sinking feeling in my stomach imagining Gale having to watch that. I quickly shake it off and distract myself by learning how to make a trap that would hang a fellow competitor by their ankle from a tree.

Peeta picks the camouflage station next. It turns out that Dough boy can work magic with just a little berry juice, mud, and paint. He sheepishly admits to me that he decorates the cakes at the bakery. I'm too distracted by the girl from District 1 sending a spear straight through the heart of a dummy to make fun of him.

"It's lovely," I say as his hand practically disappears on the tree next to him. "If only you could frost someone to death."

"Hey, don't act so superior," he says. "Say the arena is a big, frosted cake-"

"Oh, look! _Knives!_" I say before he can finish. I can't disguise the fact that I said that with the happiness of a starving child on Parcel Day.

"Katniss, you know what Haymitch said," Peeta reminds warningly. "We have to steer clear of that station."

"But look at how pretty they are," I insist. The rack of knives is like a row of glittering diamonds as their sharp tips flash in the Training Center's fluorescent lights. Peeta grabs my arm and drags me away towards the sword station. I'm happy enough wielding a sword.

Like good tributes, we leave the archery, knives, and weight-lifting stations alone, but I excel at swords (which are really just big knives) and the edible plants station. And Doughy is excellent at hand-to-hand combat. I, however, fail dismally. I do pretty well against my shadow, but Peeta looks at me disparagingly and drags me away. Once we're done learning to light fires with a variety of objects, we happen to walk by the spear station where the boy from 2, Cato, is being particularly deadly. I pick up one of the spears and examine it.

"Hey, did you just steal my spear?" someone shouts.

I glance up and realize that Cato's running towards me. Peeta's trying to tug me away, but I don't know what I've done wrong. "Well," I say, "_steal's_ such a strong word."

"You _were_ trying to steal my spear," he says incredulously.

"Okay, _fine_, Cato," I say. "I was checking out your spear. Big whoop."

Big mistake, more like it.

He launches himself at me before I can react. That is when I whip out a very lethal-looking Peacekeeper Swiss-army knife from down my shirt. How it got there, we may never know. Cato has to stop himself before he impales himself on my multi-tool. Peacekeepers are converging from every direction. They grab Cato behind, and Peeta grabs me. I thrash around, trying to hit him, but it's no use- he's strong. Once I've calmed down, he lets me go, and we walk away.

"Stay out of my way, Twelve!" yells Cato. "And you too, baker's boy!"

"Hey!" I whirl around. "Only I get to call him that!"

This time, I launch myself at him. I tackle him to the ground, but Peeta drags me off of him before I can do any hitting. I scream and spit curses, but Peeta has a pretty good hold on me. Cato hisses death threats at me, and I gain another surge of strength. I twist around in Peeta's grasp and kick him in the crotch, making him let me go.

Cato runs at me again, and we collide. He's incredibly strong, that Cato- I will give him that. He grabs my shoulders with such strength that I'm afraid I'll break in half. I kick his side, and we roll over. I realize that we're about to roll off the spear-throwing station a split second before we do. Cato's back smashes into the ground, knocking the wind out of him. I get a few good punches on his face, but we roll over again and smash into a stand of javelins. They rain down on my back and clatter around us. Cato shoves me onto a pile of javelins.

That's when I realize we've gained quite an audience of tributes, Peacekeepers, and cameras. Even the Gamemakers are crowded on the edge of their raised platform watching us. Someone grabs one of the javelins and tosses it towards us. I roll over with all my strength so that I'm on top again, and I catch the javelin midair. I shove it down on Cato's neck and arms. Frankly, I'm surprised by my own strength. He tries to move his hands, but he can't. His face starts to turn pale like I'm choking him.

"Do you regret it?" I yell. He glares at me, but I increase the pressure on his neck. He chokes loudly, and several hands grab me at once, hauling me off Cato.

Cato's pulled to his feet by another Peacekeeper. We stare at each other, breathing hard, for what seems like eternity. I can see something, a fire, in Cato's eyes. And then there's something else. I can't quite place my finger on it…but I think it's admiration. And anger. Definitely anger. And that's a deadly combination in the Hunger Games.

I remember that expression on one other person's face, and it's like a stab of pain. I've seen it on Gale's face. It was when we went hunting together for the first time as a team. We were just starting to become friends. A flock of birds took to the air, and without an ounce of his help, I shot down every one. He'd given me that look with fire in his eyes. Though, I must admit, his eyes had been more full of admiration and not anger, so I wasn't afraid of Gale like I am of Cato right now.

I jerk out of my memory to continue glaring at Cato. He's calmed down more or less. There's no more admiration in his eyes. Now, he's staring at me like I'm dead meat…which, I suppose, I am.

The Peacekeeper clenches his massive fist on my shoulder. "Calm down," I say before he crushes me. "I'll play nice if he does."

I glare across the battlefield of javelins at Cato. His chest rises and falls heavily like it's taking a great deal of self-restraint not to rip me to shreds. "I'll do the same," he says heavily through clenched teeth.

They release us for lunch, but I realize that a lot more Peacekeepers hang around me after that. The Careers all sit together and chat rowdily. They regard the rest of us as if we're nothing. All the other tributes are sitting alone, but Peeta and I sit together per Haymitch's instructions. Cato keeps shooting me glares that promise death, but I just smile back.

As we're serving ourselves, Peeta dumps out the bread basket to point out how all of the district breads have been included. There's the heavily refined bread of the Capitol, a green fish-shaped one from District 4, and a half-moon roll dotted with seeds from 11. They look a lot better than the drop biscuits from home.

"You certainly know a lot," I say, taking one of the Capitol rolls.

"Only about bread," says Peeta lightly. "Okay, now laugh like I've said something funny." Doughy and I manage somewhat convincing laughs and ignore the stares we're getting. This is getting exhausting, pretending like we're friends. "Okay, now I'll smile thoughtfully while you talk," he instructs.

"Have I told about how I sleepwalk?" I ask Peeta while I fake-smile. Since no one can hear what we're saying, I just have to look the part.

"No," Peeta says, smiling pleasantly and nodding.

I try to animate my face and look engaged. "Well, every night since I started stealing knives from school, I've been waking up in strange places after having done strange things."

"Really? You've been stealing knives? And waking up in strange places?" He looks happy and engaged, but there's an edge to his voice that suggests he disapproves of the stealing.

"Yeah, I have," I reply happily. "I woke up in a chair this morning."

"What have you been doing?"

"Well, I woke up in the woods with blood on my hand the day of the Reaping," I start. "Then, I woke up locked outside of my room in my underwear with cake that I didn't remember ordering when we were on the train. Oh, and this morning I woke up in a new outfit with a chocolate cake in the dining area with an Avox."

"Wow," Peeta says loudly. "Sounds great."

"Great is right," I say. My face is hurting from all the fake smiling. Or smiling in general. I don't usually do much of that back home.

After lunch, Pillsbury and I take a try at some survival techniques. Then, out of nowhere, Dough boy says, "I think we have a shadow."

The little girl from 11 is peaking around a station, looking at us curiously. She's like Prim in stature, but she has dark skin and hair. Her hands are extended slightly to the sides like she could take flight at any moment.

"I think her name's Rue," adds Peeta. _Rue_. A small yellow flower that grows in the Meadow at home. I don't think she would tip the scale at 70 pounds soaking wet. Apparently she can hit the bull's-eye on targets with a sling shot every time, but what chance does a sling shot have against a 200-hundred-something pound guy with a sword?

We truck back up to the top floor for dinner after a long day of training. Literally seconds after entering the penthouse, Effie and Haymitch are on me like wild dogs.

"What were you thinking?" growls Haymitch.

I'm taken aback. "What?"

"You can't fight with other tributes," he says. "It's against the rules!"

"How very unladylike of you," Effie reprimands.

"I'm sorry," I say sharply. "He just made me mad."

"And a Career, of all people!" Haymitch yells. "Do you realize how easily he could kill you in the arena? He could and _would_ do it in seconds without batting an eye."

"Actually," Doughy breaks in tentatively, "I think Katniss had him. She had the guy on the ground with a javelin to his neck in seconds. It was amazing."

Haymitch raises an eyebrow. "You had District 2 on his back with a javelin to the neck? _You?_ Little, 90 pound _you?_"

"Yes, I did," I say defensively. "And if those Peacekeepers hadn't gotten in the way I would have beaten him silly."

For the rest of dinner, Effie and Haymitch grill us about every detail of the day. Who was watching us? Who looked strong? What were people's abilities and weakness? Cinna and Portia did not attend dinner with us, so there was absolutely no sanity.

Finally, Peeta and I excuse ourselves for bed. I stifle a yawn as Dough says, "Someone needs to get Haymitch a drink." I laugh, but I have to stop myself. I can't be friends with this guy. He's probably going to die early in the Games, and the less attached I am, the better.

I barely get in bed before I'm totally asleep.

/

_I sit down at the kitchen table and immediately turn the old television on to see what updates they have on the Games. My mom steps away from the sink with a dish and a rag to watch over my shoulder._

_Claudius Templesmith, the famous announcer, fills the screen. He gives a charismatic smile and says, "Update on our tributes tonight…Apparently, two of our tributes got into quite a heated argument today during training."_

_Before he says anything more, I instinctively know that Katniss is involved. Tributes rarely fight and get caught, and I know the person to break the mold would be my Catnip. Always the aggressive, controlling one._

"_District 2's Cato and 12's Katniss, the girl on fire, got into quite the quarrel over a spear," Claudius says with a laugh. "See for yourselves." A video fills the screen. I watch as Katniss tackles a huge, muscular blond boy to the ground. They tumble over the edge of a platform and ram into a cart of spears. She gets several good punches on his face before the feed cuts back to Claudius. "Peacekeepers had to be brought in to break up the fight. I'm sure we'll all be anxious to see if this affects the Games later."_

_Static fills the screen, and I turn the television off. My mom, much to my surprise, laughs. "That girl has fight in her. We have to remember not to underestimate Katniss Everdeen."_

_I drop my head into my hands and rub my temples. That is exactly the opposite of what I was thinking. She is going to get herself killed. She's put a giant target on her back and made a dangerous enemy. That guy, Cato, is going to smash her head in as soon as they enter the Games. I can only hope that Katniss stays out of his reach._

_But, then again, she did just tackle a guy at least double her size, and she didn't appear to be losing the fight. And, if she's got a knife or a bow on her, I wouldn't be too afraid. I take one of the Peacekeeper knives that Katniss left me out of my pocket and run a finger along the smooth blade._

_She's got to get out of there alive._

_If she doesn't….I don't know what I'll do._

/

It takes a few seconds for me to wake up. I have this weird sensation that I'm moving up and down, and I feel sort of dizzy. I sit up blearily and rub my eyes.

Then I realize where I am.

I am sitting in the corner of the crystal elevator. It is moving down. Right now, I'm on the seventh floor. Scattered across the ground by my feet are all the knives that I'd been admiring at the knife-throwing station of the Training Center.

Here I go again, stealing knives and whatnot.

A loud dinging sound echoes through the elevator, and it comes to a stop. The doors glide open, revealing Cato. Apparently I'm on level 2 now. His hair's all messed up, and he's not wearing a shirt. It takes a few seconds for my presence to be noted by his half-asleep brain.

"Hey, Cato," I say. A few seconds pass as we look at each other.

"Am I on drugs?" he asks, squinting at me.

I raise an eyebrow. "No?"

"Are you on drugs?" he asks.

"I don't think so," I reply.

"Oh." He blinks a few times.

"You wanna hop on?" I ask. He doesn't respond but looks repulsed by the idea. "Next elevator?" I suggest. He nods. I reach up and press the 12 button several times. Cato runs a hand through his hair as we sit there awkwardly.

He looks at all the knives and then at me and then back at the knives. "Oh, I wasn't trying to steal these," I say hurriedly as the doors start to shut. "I don't know how I got here! I guess I've been to the Training Center, but-" And the door slams shut.

I ride the elevator up to the top floor and collect the knives. I walk into the dining area were Peeta and Haymitch and Effie are dining happily.

"Where have _you_ been?" Haymitch asks between sips of alcohol.

"A better question is where _haven't_ I been," I say, taking a seat.

"Okay, where haven't you been?" Haymitch asks, humoring me.

"Well, I woke up in the elevator this morning," I start off. "I've been on Cato's floor. Saw Cato." I say. "Stole these," I say as I throw all the knives down on the ground. "Apparently, I've been in the Training Center. These aren't my clothes," I add. I've just now realize that I'm wearing a pair of guy's cargo shorts and a tight black shirt. "Don't know where I got those." Everyone's staring at me like I've lost my mind. Even the Avoxes look shocked.

"Well, sweetheart," Haymitch says after a minute, "when you're done sleep walking, causing trouble, and ordering chocolate cakes like a pregnant woman, we can get down to business."

"You know about the cake?" I demand.

"Yeah," he replies offhandedly. "I've been getting weird reports from the kitchens. Apparently you've been rapidly ordering molten lava chocolate cake at weird hours for the past two days."

"Well, I'm sorry if I like the molten lava cake," I say. "Let's just get to business, Haymitch." Haymitch goes onto explain our strategies for our private time with the Gamemakers. I pretty much just tune it out and eat my breakfast.

I plan on winging it.

/

We go through another boring day of training, and then we finally reach the third day, which is dedicated to our individual time with the Gamemakers. We are herded into a little holding room, and Marvel, the boy from One, is called in almost immediately.

I know I'll be last, but I'm already thinking about the perfectly crafted bow and arrows that I will find in the Training Center. I've only been in the Capitol a few days, but this is probably the longest I've gone without shooting since I was twelve, so I'm feeling a bit like I'm going through withdrawal.

And, of course, there will be all the knives that I haven't managed to steal yet. I could be pretty deadly with those as well.

I find that I have way too much energy to stay sitting, so I jump up to my feet and start pacing back and forth in my small bubble of space. I glance around the room, and everyone else is sitting silently by themselves. How can they be so calm about this whole thing?

I let out a breath of frustration and grab a roll from one of the baskets on the table by me. I don't even want eat, but I rip it up in my hand anyway, just for something to do.

After what seems like an eternity and a half, the door opens for Foxface from District Five, and my body doesn't seem to want to stop wearing ruts into the nice Capitol carpet. I run out of roll to shred and stuff down my throat, so I reach out for another, only to find that I've eaten my way through the whole basket.

Unconsciously, I reach towards my belt and retrieve a knife I didn't know I had. I must have taken another adventure down to the Training Center last night and forgotten to return this one. I instantly start to panic that someone has seen me draw this knife, but no one appears to have noticed.

The only Districts left are 8, 9, 10, 11, and 12. Peeta and the two tributes from 8 are the only people sitting near me, and they all have their backs turned. That's probably a good thing because I've heard that the boy from Eight, the one with a crippled leg, is quite the gossip…

Peeta glances over at me and sees the knife, but he just shakes his head and puts his head in his hands.

The door opens, and the crippled boy from Eight walks into the gym to show off whatever talent he's got. Slowly, everyone leaves until it's just me, Pillsbury Peeta, and District 11. For some reason, I feel oddly comfortable with just the few of us left in here, so I decide to just get whatever practice I can out of this moment.

Without thinking much of it, I chuck my knife at the wall in front of me, aiming for the seam between two wood panels, and the blade sticks directly where I wanted it to. I hear a little gasp from behind me, and little Rue's seem to grow to the size of saucers.

There's silence for a couple seconds, and then Thresh says, "That really can't be allowed."

"It's not," Peeta supplies simply. "Effie Trinket fairly stripped her naked before we came here, and she didn't have a single knife on her. We're not sure where she's getting them."

Thresh looks at me for a couple seconds, but he softens and chuckles when he sees the slightly sheepish look on my face. He leans back against the wall for a moment, but the door opens to call him in. Pretty soon, Rue's in the gym, too, and it's just me and Peeta left.

"Remember what Haymitch said about throwing those weights," I say as Peeta stands up to wait by the door.

He nods. "Thanks, I will. You… shoot straight."

I nod, and the he's called in.

The fifteen minutes that Peeta's in there are like the most agonizing fifteen minutes of my life. I end up just lying spread-eagle on the floor in the middle of the room, staring at the ceiling, until the automated voice finally calls my name.

As soon as I get in the gym, I know I'm in for trouble. The Gamemakers have sat through 23 other boring demonstrations, and they've obviously had too much to drink in order to make things more interesting. The ones who aren't talking to loudly with each other are passed out on a variety of surfaces. One of them is even face-down on the table.

However, they haven't seen Katniss Everdeen yet. They better prepare themselves for a much more exciting demonstration.

I walk straight over to the archery station, and I instantly feel at home with a bow in my hands. This bow, unlike the one I have at home, is absolutely perfect. The arrows are unused and new. I find myself wishing for a second that Gale was here with me just so that he could see these weapons.

I turn towards the dummy used for knife throwing and pull back an arrow. I aim straight for the dummy's head just to show the Gamemakers that I can be deadly if I want.

As soon as I've let it go, I know it won't hit. The arrow barely misses the dummy's head by half an inch and lodges in the wall behind it. I can practically head Gale chuckling over my shoulder and tugging on my braid, saying, "Now that you're warmed up, you want to try that again?"

I quickly grab another arrow, and I realize that I've lost the attention of the few Gamemakers that were watching me through their drunken haze. I take a deep breath and steady myself. I either have to give them a reason to pay attention or I have to hope that they'll give me a solid 6 or 7 because that can't remember what I've done.

May as well go crazy then, huh?

I adjust myself and send another arrow flying. This time, it skewers the dummy through the heart. I do a 180 and shoot the rope holding up the punching bag. I shoot the bag at least three times before it hits the ground in an explosion of dust. I do a tuck-and-roll and shoot three more dummies by the sword stations. I throw my bow up in the air along with my arrows, do a cartwheel- which I didn't know I could do- and catch my bow and arrows when I right myself. Less than a second later, I skewer another dummy by the knife station straight in the eye. I do one final shoulder roll and shoot a light, sending sparks everywhere.

I run straight through the sparks towards the knife station. I grab the biggest knives I can find- which are about the size of the machetes Effie found me in the possession of earlier today- and start throwing them like mad. I'm hitting things with accuracy I didn't know I had. I do a flying pirouette through the air and slash the heads off of three dummies at once. I take knives and start throwing them at every visible target. I chuck them at dummies yards away from me and hit them every time. I do a barrel roll towards the camouflage station, grab a pitcher of berry juice, and throw it in the air. While it's spiraling towards the ground, I scoop up my bow and arrows again and hit it in mid-air. It shatters, spraying almost everything with berry juice. I wipe the juice from my eyes, cart-wheel back towards the knives and pick some up.

As a finale, I light a dummy on fire at the survival skills station and throw it into the air. I nail it to the wall with an arrow while it's falling. I throw a good fifty knives at the dummy, impaling every single body part of the dummy. I grab a wicked machete, light it aflame with the dummy, and hold it above my head in triumph.

One Gamemaker— one freaking Gamemaker— is paying attention. He claps enthusiastically and promptly passes out onto the table. Through my blazing fury, I see the Gamemakers all have their backs turned and are observing something that's just been brought in by an Avox. The drunken laughter echoes around the gym.

My jaw drops open in absolute rage. I'm drawing my bow and arrow before another intelligible thought can cross my mind. I'm aiming to kill before I process the illegality of these actions. My arrow races towards Seneca Crain with the speed of a bullet. It's about to stab him straight through the heart when he steps out of the way.

The arrow skewers an apple right out of a roast pig's mouth.

The Gamemakers all wheel around to face me, mouths agape. One of them falls into the punch bowl, shrieking. There are a couple seconds of stunned silence, and then I take an angry bow and say, "Thanks for your consideration!"

I stalk straight out without being excused.

/

I stomp onto the crystal elevator, chuck my bow aside, and punch the wall with all my strength. It hurts my fist, but I'm beyond caring. I'm too infuriated with the Gamemakers— and myself, for that matter.

In a way, I've pretty much just screwed myself. I'll be lucky to get a three. In fact, I bet I'll be the first person in history to ever get a zero in Training. Imagine what people are going think of me?

That hits me really hard. I haven't just screwed myself, I've screwed District Twelve too. If I get a zero, my family's hope will be smashed. The entire population of Twelve will give up on me, like we do with every other tribute that's ever died in the Games.

But what if they don't just take this out on me? What if the Gamemakers take out their anger at me on my family? My throat starts to constrict as I am filled with a sudden trapped and constricted feeling. While I am stuck here in the Capitol, will the Gamemakers kill my mother? Prim? Gale? They could cut off all supplies to District Twelve, even.

I punch the wall again with both my fists, and they twinge with pain. Something tumbles out of my shirt sleeve and clatters to the floor of the elevator. A knife. I want to scream and shatter the elevator's walls. I am seriously done with not knowing when I steal these knives. Seriously done.

The elevator dings as we reach the top floor, and I stomp out in a blind rage. Effie and Haymitch both try to hook me in and ask me question, but I shove past them, right into my bedroom.

I collapse onto my bed and just stare at the roof.

I feel so powerless as I lie there. Anything could happen to my loved ones, and there's nothing I can do… simple because I got mad and shot at the head Gamemaker.

After about an hour of stewing in my nerves and depression, it occurred to me that the Gamemakers would probably find more satisfaction in giving me a zero and then sending mutts and tricks after me in the arena rather than viciously murdering my family. At least, that way, I'll be the one suffering rather than those I care about.

Besides, I have no intentions of letting them kill me.

At some point, Effie comes knocking at my door, telling me that it's time for dinner. I drag myself out of bed and stomp down the hall to the dining room. I try to look as impartial as possible, but I'm guessing my little rage-stalk to my bedroom earlier probably gave away that things went badly.

I drop into the chair next to Peeta, and he raises an eyebrow at me, asking silently about how my Training went. I look away from him immediately, letting him know I don't want to talk about it. Cinna and Portia don't join us for dinner, so it's a really silent affair until after the main course.

"So, what bad were you?" Haymitch asks bluntly.

Effie lets out a little shriek and smacks his arm.

Peeta jumps in with an answer immediately. "I think it went fine," he says quickly. "I threw around some weights and camouflaged my arm to look like tree bark, and then they told me to leave. They were so drunk that they probably don't even remember who I am."

Haymitch nods knowingly and then looks at me. "How about you, sweetheart?"

Suddenly, I don't really feel ashamed of what I've done. In a small corner of myself, I'm actually really proud of myself for giving the Gamemakers a taste of their own medicine. I might actually be a pleased with my zero.

"I destroyed the entire gym and took down pretty much every dummy in the place," I say. I take a bite of my food and then nonchalantly add, "And then I shot at Seneca Crane because no one was paying attention, and I left without being dismissed."

Effie looks like I've just announced that I have feelings for Haymitch. That's how disgusted, shocked and horrified she looks. Peeta has a pretty similar look of shock on his face, but Haymitch's expression really surprises me.

A smile creeps onto his face after a moment or two, and then he holds out a thumb's up. "Way to _go, _sweetheart," he says happily. "You're completely unforgettable. They'd have to be dead to forget you."

"That was my goal?" I ask, smiling.

"Yes, sweetheart," Haymitch says with a wink.

Effie lets out a faint squeak and smacks him on the arm again, hissing something like, "— _encouraging bad manners and inappropriate behavior."_

Haymitch ignores her and looks back over at me. "What did you shoot at?"

"I was aiming for Seneca Crane, but I skewered an apple out of their roasted pig's mouth," I reply proudly, smiling into my soup.

Effie practically has an aneurism when I say that I aimed at Seneca Crane, and she reaches the stage of anger when you lose the ability to speak. Haymitch, however, smiles.

"What happened after that?" he asks.

"I said, 'Thanks for your consideration,' and one of them fell in the punch bowl," I reply coolly.

Haymitch laughs again, but Effie glares at me with a fire in her eyes. "You'll be lucky to get a five!" she squawks loudly. "That was so terribly rude of you! What are people going to think of you when you get a three?!"

"I was actually kind of hoping to be the first person to get a zero," I say. "It really doesn't matter what I get or what they do to me."

Effie about passes out.

/

_Everyone is hanging around in the square as we wait for the scores to be announced. Most of the District is barely interested in what's going on because our tributes normally barely scrape fives, but this year the scores matter to me. _

_I'm not worried about Katniss's performance, by any means. She hunts real animals— I'm sure stationary targets aren't much of a challenge for her. Plus, she's proven to be pretty lethal with knives, so I can only imagine that will reflect well on her score. _

_I'm just concerned that the Gamemakers were too tanked to pay any attention to her. Normally it doesn't matter because District Twelve's tributes can't do much with weapons, so they're lucky when the Gamemakers can't remember what they did. I guess if anyone can get a bunch of drunk men to remember her, it's Katniss. _

_If I had to guess, I'd say she'll pull an 8 or 9 if the Gamemakers were paying any attention at all. Only Careers get higher than that, but I guess Katniss has proven that she's a good match for some of them… _

_Katniss and I usually spend our time before the score announcements guessing what all the tributes will get, and we've gotten pretty good at it over the years. I can only hope that I'm right this year. Katniss needs to secure a good score in order to get sponsors to notice her. _

_The big screen in the square springs to life, and an image of Caesar Flickerman and Claudius Templesmith pops up. Caesar's gone blue, but that's the only thing that appears to have changed about him since last year. _

"_And now it's the moment you've all been waiting for," Caesar says excitedly. "The moment when all the tributes get their scores!"_

_On my right side, Prim moves a little bit closer to me. I can tell that she's nervous, so I try to seem confident for her sake, but it's hard. On my other side, Tulip leans over so that her mouth is right by my ear._

"_What do you think?" she whispers. "A ten?" _

_I shake my head. "Only Careers." _

_She shrugs. "I've been on the other side of her punch, and I'd say that's worth a ten." _

"_Well so have I, and I'm pretty sure only Careers get tens," I say grinning. _

_Tulip rolls her eyes and sits back in her seat. Claudius and Caesar start reading the scores, and, as always, the Careers all receive anything from the 8 to 10 range. The blond guy that Katniss went after during Training earns a 10. Between District Five and Nine, everyone averages about a four. There's crippled guy from District Eight, and he gets a six, which is good considering his leg. The guy from Eleven gets a 9, and the little girl tribute gets a 7._

_Then, it's time for District Twelve. _

_Peeta Mellark's face pops up first and… an 8 appears below his name. I sigh of relief passes throughout the crowd. Compared to the normal scores for our District, an 8 is more than admirable. _

_Then, Katniss's face fills the screen. _

"_Come on, Catnip," I whisper under my breath. _

_Prim's hand finds mine, and up pops an 11._

_The entire District jumps to their feet, clapping and cheering. At first, it's a pleasant surprise that she earned a higher score than the Careers, but then a darker conclusion comes over me._

_They're targeting her. I instantly know that she's done something, and this is just a way to make her a clear target for the other tributes. _

_No one really pays attention to my look of panic because they're too busy cheering themselves hoarse. At least a high score is also a way to get sponsors. District Twelve finally has a tribute to root for. _

_The last time we had a tribute that outscored a Career was ten years ago, and he jumped off his platform too early and was blown sky high before the timer was even up. _

_That thought disappears as Prim throws her arms around me. I pick her up off the ground easily because she's so small like Katniss._

"_She's going to come home, Gale!" Prim says happily. She hugs me tightly. "She's going to come home!"_

"_She's definitely got a shot," I say. _As long as she avoids getting targeted by the Careers.

_I feel someone's hand on my back, and I turn to see my mom. Posy attaches herself to my leg and smiles like someone just bought her a bright pink cake. "Catnip is going to win," she squeals. _

_That's when it occurs to be that I may not be the only one in my family who has become attached to Katniss. I suppose my siblings have grown to think of Katniss as an older sister, just as I've grown to think of Prim as one of my own siblings. And I guess my mother has always been more of a mother to Katniss than her own. _

_I glance over at Mrs. Everdeen to see her reaction, and she has a ghost of a smile on her face. I know that she refuses to allow herself to be happy because Katniss is still far from safe. A good score hardly guarantees that she'll be safe. _

_The cheering doesn't die down at all, even when the screen goes blank. I somehow get Posy to detach herself from my leg, and then I find someone else in my arms. This time it's Tulip, though. _

_She kisses my cheek and then my lips, and my two brothers start making gagging noises. I hear Posy giggling, and Tulip pulls back to hug my tightly. _

"_We'll get your friend back yet, Gale," she says. And there's not a single trace of jealousy or hate towards Katniss in her voice. She has every right to hate Katniss for stealing my attention or punching her, but Tulip isn't holding a grudge. _

_I suppose that's why everyone likes her (you know, besides Katniss)— she's so nice. _

_After a long time, the crowds calm down, and we all go home with a bit more hope that we'll have a Victor this year. _

_/_

At first I think that there must be a mistake since I was really set on getting a zero, but it's not a trick.

I just got an Eleven.

I outscored the Careers.

Everyone jumps up to congratulate me, and even Effie, who is still angry with me for my bad manners, joins in for the toast.

I go to bed feeling quite proud of myself. Like nothing could go wrong.

/

I wake up an unintelligible amount of time later, and I have absolutely no idea where I am.

I sit up quickly and look around frantically for any sign of where I am. I'm sitting in a heap next to an elevator, but it's not the elevator for our penthouse. The wallpaper is different, the decorations are different, everything is different.

I hear a voice down the hall, and I start to panic. I jump to my feet, looking for somewhere to hide, and start mashing the elevator button.

"Twelve?" someone asks.

I whip around and see Marvel standing on the other side of the room. Apparently I'm on Floor One.

"Hey, Marvel," I say, trying to sound like this is totally normal. Although that's pretty hard because he appears to be wearing a robe and nothing else.

"What are you doing here?" he asks darkly.

"I— um," I stutter, but before I can come up with an adequate cover up, a knife falls out of my pajama sleeves and clatters on the floor.

"What's that?" he asks ferociously, coming towards me. "Were you trying to come murder us while we were sleeping?"

"No!" I reply desperately. "I sleepwalk! I have no idea how I got here, and I don't know where that knife came from! I swear!"

To prove my point, I kick the knife away from me, and it spins across the room until it stops by Marvel's feet.

"What the hell is your problem?" he growls. He bends down to pick up the knife.

"Nothing! I just sleepwalk!" I say loudly. He takes another step towards me, knife pointing dangerously at my vital organs. "That's illegal," I point out. "You're not allowed to come after me with that."

"You're one to talk!" Marvel says loudly. "It's illegal for you to be on my floor, I'm sure!"

"It's not my fault that I sleepwalk!" I say loudly.

Finally, like a gift sent from heaven, the elevator dings and the doors open. I dive into it immediately.

"Wait, Twelve!" Marvel says.

"What do you want?" I ask tiredly, putting my hand out to stop the elevator from closing.

"Is it true that you were on Cato's floor a few nights ago?" Marvel asks curiously. "He said yesterday—"

"Those are my secrets to share," I say mysteriously, just to mess him up a little, and then I hit the twelve button on the wall.

The doors close almost immediately, and I let out a huff of breath. That's sort of when I realize there's someone else in the elevator.

My heart nearly leaps straight out of my chest, and I jump sideways against the wall of the elevator.

"Hey," the crippled boy from 8 says. He takes a casual sip of coffee.

"Hey," I reply. My heart is pounding so hard that I can feel it in my head, but I manage to sound normal.

"That was… _interesting_," he says, gesturing towards the door with his coffee mug.

I glare at him. "I sleepwalk. It was a mistake."

"It sounded like a mistake," he says, smiling.

I don't respond. I want to knock the coffee out of his hands, but I refrain. Instead, I just cross my arms over my chest and stare pointedly at the wall.

"Anyway, what are you doing out this late?" I ask sharply.

"Just going for a walk," he says, shrugging. He takes another sip of coffee.

The doors open as we arrive on my floor, and I leave the elevator before the boy from 8 can get another word out. The penthouse is completely dark, so I have the comfort of knowing that no one will be up to see me sneaking back in here.

I stumble into my bed and immediately collapse into a dreamless sleep.

* * *

_A/N: As usual, hope you enjoyed that. (How could you not? We're hysterical... Just kidding.) Tell us what you think. We'd appreciate it!_


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6: Krazy Katniss plays aloof, fierce, charming, humorous, brutal, eccentric, gushing, cocky, ferocity, witty, funny, sexy, and mysterious**

_I snap awake early in the morning after a nightmare about Katniss dying in the Hunger Games. The sun hasn't even risen yet. I decide this isn't so bad because I could use the extra time for hunting. I have two families to keep alive now. Katniss and I are both fully capable of hunting without each other, but it's much easier with a partner. Katniss has better aim, and she can climb up higher into the trees. But I can't worry about that. I can only pray that the snare line makes up for it. I'm hunting for two families._

_I remember the day that I met her clearly. I was walking my snare line and had already collected three dead rabbits by the time I approached the last snare where I found a small girl. She was crouched in the tree and examining it with curiosity. She was about to touch the wire when I said, "That's dangerous."_

_My voice sent her tumbling out of the tree with a shriek, and she hit the ground. She whipped out a bow and arrow before I could react, but she lowered the weapon before shooting an arrow. When she glanced up at me, I realized that I knew that face from somewhere. She was there the day we got the medals of valor after our fathers' deaths._

_She cowered slightly as I came forward to pull a dead squirrel from the snare. "What's your name?" I asked her. Quietly, she whispered a reply. _Catnip_. So I said, "Well, Catnip, stealing's punishable by death, or hadn't you heard?"_

"Katniss,_" she said louder, more confident. "And I wasn't stealing. I was just looking at your snare. Mine never catch anything." I noticed the squirrel dangling in her hands, and I couldn't help but wonder how a scrawny, little girl like that could kill a squirrel if she hadn't stolen it. I scowled at her, still unconvinced she hadn't taken the squirrel from one of my traps. "Where'd you get the squirrel, then?"_

"_I shot it," she said simply. She held out the small bow. I was a little surprised that she could have good enough aim to hit a squirrel for being so young. "Can I see that?" I asked. _

_Grudgingly, she handed her bow over but not before saying, "Just remember, stealing's punishable by death."_

_I smiled at that, and I think it put her at ease. But it was forever before she would even return the smile. For a little thing, she was mighty untrusting. From then on, we had something of an agreement. We traded information. I taught her fishing and trapping. She taught me to shoot and showed me what plants were edible. Slowly, we became a team. She filled what used to be lonely days of hunting with humor and company. She became my friend, my confidant, the only person who would allow me to rant about the Capitol. Sometimes, in the woods with her, I felt different. Happy, even._

_Thinking about her sends a pang of loneliness through me. It's only really been a few days, but I miss her so much. Sometimes, I wonder if she misses me too. She must. I doubt she's coping well without someone to rant to and yell at._

_I spend the rest of the day hunting with that feeling of empty loneliness tailing me. I go straight to the Hob afterwards and trade. Somehow, I wind up at the mayor's backdoor. He has a soft spot for strawberries, and we've learned he pays well._

_Madge, his daughter, opens the door. "Oh," she says, surprised. She's probably used to Katniss, her friend, coming with the berries. She grabs some money behind her and hands it to me. I thank her and start to turn away, but it occurs to me that she's probably the only other person that understands how I feel._

_Before she closes the door, I say, "Do you think she'll make it back?"_

_She opens the door again, smiling slightly. "She's definitely got a fighting chance. She's got an eleven. And she took down the boy from 2."_

"_Yeah, as long as she's got some knives, she'll be super," I say, and Madge laughs._

"_I wouldn't worry," she says as she shuts the door. "I think we'll have our friend back quite soon."_

_Feeling slightly comforted, I go the Everdeen's. I knock on the door, and Prim answers immediately. She still has a dead look in her eye, like being at home without Katniss is unbearable. I give her the game bag, and she takes it with a numb "thank you."_

"_Hey," I say gently, reaching out to rub her shoulder. "Cheer up, little Prim. You'll have Katniss back real soon." A ghost of a smile appears on her face._

"_Thanks, Gale," she repeats._

_I walk home and all I can wonder is what Katniss is doing right now. Normally, we'd be together. We would've spent the day hunting as a team. But right now we're both separated, and I don't think either of us is all that happy right now. I bet she's eating right now. She better be. She needs to gain weight before she gets in the arena. I bet that's what she's doing. Either that or stirring up drama. That wouldn't surprise me either._

_I walk inside my house. My mom's scrubbing laundry, like she always is. Posy runs over excitedly since she hasn't seen me all day. "Gale!"_

_I pick her up. "Hey, Posy," I say. As I pick her up, something falls out of my jacket sleeve. I look down, and there's a knife lying at my feet. I have never seen it before in my life._

"_Oh god, it's happening to me too," I say, louder than I intended. My mother looks over at me questioningly, and I just pick up the knife._

_That's probably what she's doing now. Collecting knives. _

/

I crawl out of bed the next morning and drag myself to the breakfast table. Doughy's the only other person there this early. He butters a piece of toast as I sit down.

"So, where'd you sleepwalk to?" he asks casually.

I lick my lips and shift nervously. "Nowhere."

He looks at me with an eyebrow raised. "Really?"

"Really."

Peeta rolls his eyes. "I heard you walking around. You went somewhere."

"Fine, I rode the elevator around," I say. It's not entirely a lie. I _was_ on the elevator last night.

"Care to elaborate?" Pillsbury Peeta continues.

"No," I retort. Effie and Haymitch come in next, effectively killing the conversation. I didn't think I'd ever be relieved by their presence…

"Morning," I say as brightly as I can to Effie and Haymitch, who looks hungover. He bravely musters a smile but winces and pours himself some coffee.

"So," I start, "we have our interview trainings with you today. When do Peeta and I start?"

There's silence from all three other people in the room. It appears that I wasn't informed of something.

"Today is that day, right?" I ask, looking at all of them. "I didn't get stuck in a vortex or something that sucked me into a different time, did I? Oh, crap, I've—"

"Katniss, sweetheart," Haymitch groans. "You aren't in different dimension."

"Good, I was worried," I say. I wait expectantly to be filled in, but I don't have much patience. "Anyone going to share with Katniss what she doesn't know?" I prompt.

Dough Boy looks down at him plate and pushes his bacon around with his fork. "Um, Katniss… I suggested that maybe it would be better if we… er… trained separately… from now on."

I nearly jump out of my chair. "_What?_"

"I-I thought-" Peeta continues, but I'm screaming before he can finish.

"HOW COME YOU MADE US BE ALL BUDDY-BUDDY DURING TRAINING, BUT AS SOON AS PEETA SAYS HE DOESN'T WANT TO TRAIN WITH ME WE STOP THE ACT, HUH?" I start shrieking at Haymitch. "HOW COME I DIDN'T HAVE ANYTHING TO SAY IN THE MATTER? WHY DOESN'T ANYONE SHARE ANYTHING WITH ME? WHY DO I HAVE TO DO THINGS I DON'T WANT TO DO, BUT PEETA CAN DO WHAT HE WANTS?"

I run out of breath, and Haymitch just clutches his aching head. Good. He deserves it. Effie, on the other hand, looks scandalized by my outburst.

I cross my arms over my chest in a huff. I refuse to look at Peeta. My anger is almost at boiling point, and I can hardly contain it. Why is Peeta betraying me like this? I finally thought we weren't going to be enemies in the Games, but now he's turning his back for good! I can't believe he'd do this!

"This is completely unfair," I hiss.

Peeta breaks in, "I thought it would be better if we didn't train together since you got such a high score, and I got a mediocre one-"

So that's the cover. I feel the anger spewing out. "No one asked you what you thought, Doughy!"

He looks wounded. He shrinks back into his chair, hurt written across his face. That's good too. He deserves it for turning on me.

"I'm done with breakfast," Peeta says quietly. He pushes back his chair and drops his napkin on the table. "I'll be in my room."

Peeta rejoins his room, and I sit silently, stewing, with Haymitch and Effie for a good five minutes before anyone speaks. I stab my knife repeatedly into my muffin until my nice plate breaks. Effie is so upset that she doesn't yell at me for destroying something pretty.

"So, when do I start?" I growl out.

Effie coughs and speaks in a tentative voice, "You start with me after breakfast."

I nod. "I'll just go get dressed then." And with that, I stomp out of the room, having eaten almost nothing.

/

I drop onto my bed and scream into my pillow. I need to be around someone who understands me. There are only two people that can supply that kind of companionship, and that's Gale or Madge… and they are both hundreds of miles away. And I might never see them again.

I slam my face repeatedly into my pillow until the whiplash makes my neck hurt. I leave my face in my pillow, hardly able to breathe for suffocation and anger.

I'm so mad at Peeta for turning on me and at Haymitch for being hungover and at the world for doing this to me. I suppose I'm mad at Effie as well, but I'm not sure what for. I'm mad at everyone.

I want to talk to Gale and Madge so badly that it's like an aching in my chest. At least with them around, there would be someone to explain to me what's going on. Gale's good at reading people. In the past, we've had a great amount of fun jokingly dissecting tributes, while trying to decide what they'll be like in the arena. More often than not, Gale hits head on. If the Gamemakers didn't create crazy obstacles to kill off tributes, I'd say Gale could guess the victor just by the interviews. Gale is probably the only person who could tell me what's going on in Peeta's head.

Was Peeta serious when he said that he only wanted to train separately because of our scores? It sounded like a good cover up, but now that I'm thinking about it, I could come off as pretty intimidating.

Then, something dawns on me. I got the highest score of all tributes.

My heart begins to race with excitement. I'm a force to be reckoned with! I can only imagine what the other tributes were thinking, what the people of District 12 are thinking! I feel a slight smile spreading across my face. I wonder if Prim and Mom are comforted. And Madge. And Gale.

I feels something warm and fuzzy pass through me as I imagine what Gale would say to me if he were here right now. First, he'd walk right through the door of my room without knocking and haul me into a sitting position. We'd sit there for a while in silence, him smiling slightly, me looking glum. Then, Gale would turn to me with a falsely serious look on his face and say, "You know, Catnip, there's some room for improvement there."

I can almost feel the warm hug he'd give me, one that would feel so safe and friendly and comforting. I call Gale a friend, but he's so much more than that. He's a constant confidant, a strong older brother, a silent secret-keeper, a life-long partner-in-crime. Madge was always the one that fell under the "friend" category. She was the person I was partnered with, the person I ate lunch with, the girl I could talk to for anything.

I am broken from my thoughts by a knock at my door. Effie sounds almost scared when she says, "Katniss, are you ready?"

I sit up, still hugging a pillow to my chest. "No, not quite. I'll be right out."

I quickly run to my closet, grab the random clothes that the closet picked out, and shove them on, so as not to leave Effie waiting. With the spirits of Gale and Madge on my heels, I follow Effie out of the hallway.

I wasn't initially sure what Effie was going to do with me for four hours, but I soon found out.

"Effie, I can't move," I say quickly.

"Of course you can, Katniss," she says, a bit frustrated. "Just walk normally."

I take a tentative step forward in my terrifyingly high heels and teeter dangerously. To make matters worse, the gown Effie has me in keeps getting tangled on the shoes. I take one more step towards Effie and fall forward onto my face. I get back up. Repeat.

This happens at least twenty more times.

Ultimately, Effie decides that I'll be going in flats.

She's quite saddened because I'm "just _soooooo_ petite", but my grace and lack of falling while walking up to my interview is more important.

Then we address posture, eye contact, gestures, and smiling. Posture and eye contact (or lack thereof) mostly contains fixing my tendency to glare and my apparent habit of ducking my head. Once she angrily deems those unfixable, we address my smile. Apparently, she finds my smile too forced and creepy. Mostly the smiling session is spent telling me I must smile _more_. Effie teaches me thousands of boring phrases that I can say starting with a smile, while smiling, and ending with a smile.

When I finish one of my phrases, Effie sighs dramatically and says, "Katniss, that will not do."

"What?"

"I thought we talked about the glaring, the creepy smiling, and the 'I'm going to violently kill you in your sleep' edge to your voice," Effie says condescendingly.

"What does that mean?" I demand.

Effie wipes her brow like this whole experience has just been _so_ trying. "Well, I think that's the best I can do. Just remember, you want the audience to like you."

"And you don't think that they will?"

"Not if you glare at them or make them uneasy! You can save all that rubbish for the arena, dear," says Effie swiftly. "Just think of yourself amongst friends."

"But they're not my friends!" I yell. "They're betting on how long I'll live!"

"Well, try and pretend, alright?" snaps Effie. Then, after composing herself, she beams at me and says, "See, I'm smiling at you even though you're aggravating me."

I roll my eyes. "It's quite convincing," I say dully. "I'm going to go eat."

Haymitch and Peeta are in considerably better spirits than me and Effie at lunch. This makes me think the second half of my day will be better, but I couldn't have been more wrong.

Haymitch sits me down on the couch opposite him and frowns at me, taking occasional sips of alcohol. Finally, I snap and ask, "_What_?"

"I'm trying to decide how to present you," he replies. "Aloof? Charming? Fierce? So far you're the shining star. You volunteered for that girl. Cinna made you look unforgettable. You got the top training scores. People are intrigued by you, but they have no idea who you are. The impression you make tomorrow will really decide what sponsors I can get you."

I've watched these interviews with Gale for the past four years. We have dissected interviews and covers every year. Everyone plays the crowd, whether they're being humorous or brutal or eccentric.

"What's Peeta's approach?" I ask. Then, stiffly, I add, "Or am I not allowed to ask?"

"Likable," Haymitch replies. "He has this whole 'self-deprecating humor' going on. Whereas, when you open your mouth, it's a whole lot of sullen and hostile and ugly."

"It is not!" I bark.

"Please," he says with an eye roll. "I don't know where you pulled that pretty, charming girl on the chariot from, but no one's heard from her since."

"And you've given me so many reasons to be cheery, Haymitch," I say sharply.

"But you don't need to please me. I'm not a sponsor," he says. "Pretend I'm the audience." He leans back into the couch, getting comfortable. "Delight me."

Haymitch becomes Caesar Flickerman for the next couple of hours while I answer him spitefully. I'm so mad at Haymitch that I'm practically spitting the answers at him. "Alright, enough," Haymitch says finally. "We have to find a different angle. Now, not only are you hostile, I don't know a thing about you. I've asked you at least fifty questions and I know nothing about your life, home, friends, family, boy interests—"

"There are none."

"—or what you care about," he finishes.

"Can I talk about knives?" I say loudly. "I care about those." He sends me a disparaging look. "I have nothing else!"

"Then lie!"

"I'm not good at lying!"

"Then you'd better learn quick because you've got about as much charm as my sock," he says. He probably knows he's been too harsh, so he says, "Try being humble. Insist that you can't believe the little girl from 12 got this far. The whole thing's been more than you could've dreamed. Talk about Cinna. How nice everyone's been. How much the city dazzles you. Just keep turning it around. Gush." I try that, but praising the Capitol is so disgusting that I can't get the words out. Haymitch tries for one agonizing hour, but we learn that I can't gush and that gushing can't be taught. Instead, we try making me cocky, but I don't have the arrogance to make it convincing. Apparently, I'm too small for hostile. And I'm not witty. Nor am I funny. Or sexy. Or mysterious.

By the end of it, I am no one. I am just a girl who hates the Capitol, secretly collects knives, sleepwalks, and is trying desperately to keep quiet about all of that. Haymitch started drinking around witty and had a collection of bottles by mysterious, so he's hardly coherent now.

"I give up, sweetheart. You appear to have nothing going for you except hostility, a strange ability to acquire knives and eat vast amounts of chocolate cake, and an apparent death wish. Just answer the questions and try not to show the audience how much you openly despise them."

I lock myself into my room and order vast amounts of delicacies after that ordeal. Once I've eaten my weight in chocolate molten lava cake, I take turns smashing plates on walls and throwing knives. I end up asking the kitchen to send up a basket full of knives, and surprisingly, they oblige.

The red-head Avox comes in to turn down my bed, and her eyes widen at the mess. "Just leave it!" I growl. "Just leave it!" I throw myself onto my bed and break down. The girl shuts the door and walks into bathroom. She wipes my face and hands with a damp cloth to remove the blood from the plate throwing. She picks up the last, unfinished chocolate cake and hands it to me. I smile weakly and take a bite of it.

I spend the next hour cleaning my room with the Avox. It's like we're playing a game of hide-and-seek with knives. It takes us a good majority of the time to find them all and remove them from various pieces of wood furniture. Then, when we're done, she turns down my bed and tucks me in like a five year old. Silently she leaves. I wish she would've stayed.

Finally, I get restless. I go into the bathroom with the sole intention of eating the delicious toothpaste. I grab the tube, throw my head back, and squirt a good long amount of it into my mouth. I swallow it.

The last thing I see before I pass out is the blueness of my teeth because they've been stained by the toothpaste.

I feel something cold and smooth beneath my cheek when I wake up. I run my hand over the surface and realize that I'm lying in a bathtub. Maybe I passed out into the bathtub after I swallowed all the toothpaste…

I sit up groggily and blink my eyes a couple times. The room is completely dark, which is odd because I remember the lights being on when I passed out. My eyes start to adjust, and I look around.

This isn't my bathroom.

I have to force a hand over my mouth to stop myself from screaming. There are millions of bathrooms in the Capitol. I could be in any one of them. My heart is pounding so hard that I'm afraid I might be having a heart attack. I start to stand up.

The door is flung wide open, and the light comes on, revealing Thresh standing in the doorway in only his underwear.

I really do scream that time.

I stand up so fast that I slip. I make a mad grab for the shower curtain, and I end up yanking the curtain and the rod down on top of me. Thresh grabs hold of a floor-to-ceiling rack of shampoos by the door, literally lifts it off the floor with his massive strength, and throws it at me. It smashes against the wall, showering me in shampoo bottles. He runs forward and grabs the front of my shirt to haul me to my feet.

"What the hell, Twelve?" he asks loudly, pure anger seeping into his voice. I'm completely terrified.

"I'm sorry! I don't know how I got here!" I scream. "I really don't! I sleepwalk!"

He shakes me back and forth roughly. "How did you get in here?" He asks in a hiss. "Are you trying to kill me, Twelve?"

"NO! _No_!" I scream. "I couldn't sleep, so I went into my bathroom. Then, the last thing I remember, I was eating the delicious toothpaste. I blacked out and woke up here!"

Thresh lets go of my shirt, looking immense and threatening. His anger seems to have ebbed a bit, but he's still breathing heavily. The only thing he manages to say is, "The toothpaste is quite delicious here."

"I know, right?" I say enthusiastically, but I remember the circumstances, and I trail off. "But I'm really sorry! I sleepwalk a lot… Last night I was with Marvel… then before that I was with shirtless Cato on his floor."

Thresh looks startled and I realize what I've said.

"Wait, no! It's not like that! I meant I woke up on floor two and Cato found me, without his shirt on! I promise!" I feel a red blush across my face.

Thresh looks slightly angrier now. "Just get out, Twelve. Just get out."

He doesn't have to tell me twice. I bolt to the door and run out of the room. Thresh is going to kill me when we get in the arena. He's going to hate me forever. I am so dead. I am _so _dead.

I slip down the hallway, my heart pounding. I feel very faint like I'm going to pass out again when I hear footsteps. I jump just as Rue turns the corner. She sees me and her eyebrows shoot into her hairline.

"Uh, hey, Rue," I say nervously. "What's up?"

She looks at me weirdly, "Why are you here?"

"I sleepwalk," I reply hurriedly. "I wake up in random places. I promise that my presence in Thresh's room is neither malicious nor sexual! I promise!" Before Rue can respond, I'm sprinting down the hall to the elevators and mashing to buttons with all my strength.

The doors ding open, and I hop in the elevator at top speed.

I am _so _screwed.

* * *

_A/N: Hope you enjoyed. We thought we'd just roll with the weirdness. What'd you think?_


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven: Crazy Katniss Plays the Crowd**

I feel very awkward at breakfast. Very awkward indeed.

Effie, Haymitch, and Peeta don't know why, of course. I don't feel like divulging much more personal information with any of them right now. I can tell Doughy knows what's wrong, though. He keeps looking over at me, trying to make eye contact, and silently asking me what I've done.

I forcefully keep my gaze away from him and remain silent for the entire breakfast. I pick away at my large helping of some kind of breakfast cake, and no one attempts to make conversation with me.

As if on cue, Effie and Haymitch both make excuses to leave before it's time for us to go to our stylists, and Peeta and I are left alone. They are barely out the doorway before Peeta looks back over at me.

He seems a little tentative, like he's still a little afraid of how I acted yesterday, but he asks anyway. "What happened?"

"You will not believe what happened last night," I say vaguely.

So he asks it again. "What _happened_, Katniss?"

"I woke up in Thresh's bathroom," I say. I squeeze my eyes shut and force myself to continue. "Yes, the guy from Eleven's bathroom. And he came in only wearing his underwear."

I drop my head into my hands just to avoid Peeta's look of horror. "That's… not good."

"I know!" I moan. "What if he tells someone that I was trying to kill him or something? And Rue saw me in the hallway! God, I could get in so much trouble!"

"This is getting out of hand, Katniss," Peeta says evenly. "You need to get help. Like serious help."

I groan into my hands. "It's a little too late for seeking help, Peeta. We'll be in the arena before we know it."

Peeta doesn't get a chance to respond before Effie sticks her head in the door. She seems completely oblivious to the awkwardness hanging in the air and smiles like nothing has happened. "Come, dears! It's time for your styling!"

I drag myself out of my chair and follow Effie to the elevators. I don't want to face the interviews tonight in case any of my sleepwalking escapades leak into the Capitol gossip. I have no doubt that all three of the guys that have seen me would throw me under the bus without question. I mean, I literally sprinted out of Thresh's bathroom less than five hours ago. I've basically just handed my head over on a silver platter with a little note that says, "Gosh, I'm so sorry."

My prep team is overly excited to see me. They scrub me down and make my skin all nice and healthy-looking. They fix up my nails and paint little fires on them. Flavius, the man, covers me in gold dust while Venia draws my features back on with makeup and Octavia gets to work on my hair. She braids it over one shoulder with red and gold strands woven in.

That takes most of the morning and afternoon, and, at that point, I'm so fed up with their excitement over the Games that I could beat them all up. I restrain myself for the sake of whatever's left of my public image and wait for Cinna to show up.

Close to the time of the interviews, Cinna comes in with my dress. It's inside a large garment bag, but I can still see flashes of red and gold peeking out from the bottom.

"Hello, girl on fire," he says brightly. "How are you?"

He's completely oblivious to my terrible mood. I have to forcefully stop myself from reminding him where the restrain button is located on the wall in case he has to use it later.

I growl out, "Fine."

Cinna rolls his eyes at my pessimism. "Close your eyes. I have something that might improve your mood."

I do as I'm told even though shutting your eyes with little clothing on is a definitely a no-no in the Seam. I am once again reminded how far away from home I am, and it almost makes me physically sick. Before that becomes too overwhelming, I feel my prep team lowering a heavy dress over me. Once it's zipped on me, I swear it weighs more than me. I almost fall over as Cinna adjusts it around me.

"Can I open yet?" I ask.

"Open," Cinna says.

The person in the mirror cannot possibly be me. Cannot possibly be me.

If a fire could be made completely of jewels, then that's what I'm wearing. The whole gown seems to be bedazzled with sparkling red, orange, yellow, and blue gems. My skin is pale yet real-looking. My hair is braided to perfection. I look simply perfect.

That's when my prep team bursts into tears. They're screaming and wailing, but all I can do is look at Cinna. He can't possibly know how relieved this dress's effect makes me. If anything can save my favor with the sponsors, it's this dress.

"Thank you," I say. I hope he knows that I mean it.

"You're very welcome, Katniss," he replies. "Are you all ready for your interview?"

"No," I say darkly. "Haymitch says I'll be awful, and I think I agree."

"Don't think like that," Cinna says. "You're a perfectly interesting and charming girl."

"That's not what Haymitch said," I reply. "He said I'm hostile."

"Well, you _are_ hostile… when you're with Haymitch," he replies. "But when you're around certain people, you're different. You shine like the sun. The whole Capitol is simply taken by your spirit."

My spirit. Hazelle Hawthorne once told me I have spirit. And I suppose I do. How else could I have gotten the highest training scores?

"Just imagine you're with your best friend, Katniss," Cinna says. "Who's your best friend in the world?"

My response is instantaneous. "Gale."

"Then imagine you're talking with Gale," Cinna says supportively.

But that doesn't work in my mind at all. "I wouldn't be telling Gale any of these things," I say, feeling homesick once again. "He already knows everything about me."

"Then you must have other friends," Cinna says, smiling.

"Madge," I answer. "You."

Cinna looks flattered. "Then pretend you're talking to me. I'll be down in the front row. Just find me when you're asked a question and answer honestly."

"But what if my answer is horrible?" I say. Most of my thoughts directed at the Capitol are highly treasonous or at least offensive.

"Say it," Cinna nods. "Especially if it's horrible."

I find myself suddenly filled with a tremendous amount of nerves. This moment is truly the make it or break it moment for me. I may have made an impression, but if the sponsors don't like my personality, they won't stick around.

"Cinna…" I breathe.

"Remember, they already love you," he says. "Just be yourself and do your best. That's all you can do."

Suddenly, the door bursts open, and Effie comes bustling in. She tosses a pair of shoes onto the ground in front of me and gestures for us to follow. Thankfully, the heels she's given me aren't as high as the ones she made me practice in, so I can actually walk.

We meet up with the rest of the District Twelve crew down by the Training Center. For once, Peeta and I aren't dressed alike. That's the last thing District Twelve needs— cross-dressing tributes. Anyway, Peeta's wearing a black suit with flame accents that sort of match my dress. He looks quite dashing, but I'm too mad at him to compliment him.

The rest of the tributes are already lining up to walk on stage. The nerves return, and I start to feel a little shaky, but I force some confidence to my exterior and walk right over to get in line behind Thresh (since girls preceded guys this time around).

Thresh turns his back to me immediately.

I am once again reminded that these interviews could tank my image. Not only that, but I'm sitting between a guy who hates my guts and a guy whose guts I hate.

After only a moment or two, the anthem plays, and all the tributes start filing out to our seats. My heart starts to pound a little bit harder as the applause pick up outside. By the time I'm walking out onto the stage, the clapping is deafening.

I manage to exude confidence. I walk without tripping. My smile never leaves my face. My hand never stops waving. I blow kisses to the audience.

As soon as I sit down, though, I become nervous once again. There must be a millions ways for me to screw this up. My hands start to sweat, but I still smile like the sun. I can only hope that it looks genuine.

/

_The tributes file out onto the stage, smiling and waving, already playing up the audience. I can tell immediately from their outfits and demeanor what card their playing. What they're really like. I look instinctively to my right to discuss with Katniss, but it's Prim who's sitting at my side. _

_Katniss is on stage, a million miles away, trapped so close behind the TV screen. Her confidence fills the room, and whatever fear she has hidden inside is covered up by a few brilliant smiles. And she looks beautiful. _

_I find beautiful to be a hard adjective to use on Katniss Everdeen, but in this moment it seems fitting. She's beautiful. _

_She looks like she's on fire, and, for once, a tribute stumps me. I have no idea what Katniss will be like in her interview. I don't know what card she'll play or if she'll play a card at all. I could just be blinded by the jewels on her dress, but just like everyone else in the entire country of Panem, I am blinded by her spirit as well. Katniss has always been a tough nut to crack, and now is no exception. _

_I tear my eyes from the screen to look at Mrs. Everdeen, and she looks completely mesmerized by her daughter. And yet she looks so incredibly sad. We all know that beneath the beauty of all the tributes right now, it's just a game. It's just the Capitol showing off their pawns. _

_Posy, who is too young to understand that, looks at Katniss like she's something from a fairy tale. _

_The camera follows Katniss until she's in her seat, and only then does the screen find Caesar Flickerman. It's rather terrifying that besides his hair color, he looks precisely the same as he did eighteen years ago when I saw my first Hunger Games. _

_He beams at the audience and tells a few lame jokes to warm up the audience. The camera pans across the tributes while the audience laughs. All the way from the girl from One to Katniss. The camera lingers on Katniss for a moment longer than everyone else, and she looks perfectly composed. _

_The girl from One, Glimmer, takes the stage first. She's sexy all the way with her short skirt and low neckline. I find myself momentarily distracted by all the exposed skin, and that's exactly what she's going for. The male sponsors will be lining up around the block. She starts flirting with Caesar, and he pretends to be flattered. Besides that, she's an airhead. She might be a Career, but she'll die early. No common sense. _

_The guy from One plays bloodthirsty— he doesn't really play. The girl from Two is intense and dangerous. The guy from Two is arrogant, but he plays the audience, telling them that he's ready for anything. Caesar makes sure that the Careers are unforgettable. _

_I don't pay much attention to the rest of the tributes. No one shows that particular quality that tells me that they'll go far. There's a girl from Five that is clever enough to survive for a while, but she slips under the radar. I think she got a 7 in training, not that it matters. _

_Occasionally the camera will flash from the stage to the lines of tributes, and I find myself particularly distracted by the girl who's on fire. _

_/_

I get more and more nervous as the interviews go on. I find myself wishing that District Twelve went first instead of last so that I would just have gotten it out of the way, but, unfortunately, we're dead last. I am forced to sit through twenty two other perfect interviews in complete mental agony. Caesar makes everyone look good as we go along, and I can only hope that he'll save some charm for me.

I try to wipe my sweaty hands off on my dress, but the jewels just cause them to slide right off.

I try to calm myself down by analyzing the other tributes like Gale and I used to do, but it only gives me a moment or two of comfort. I tune into the boy from Seven's interview for about ten seconds before I realize that Gale's watching _me_ right now. Analyzing _me_. Trying to read _me_.

That makes me more nervous than before, and I just want to disappear. I have to keep forcing myself to sit like a lady just as Effie instructed, but my dress seems to get heavier and heavier by the minute.

The boy from Eight mounts the stage next, and I know it's almost my turn. My heart beat goes out of control.

"So it must be quite an honor being here, representing your District?" Caesar asks from the stage.

The boy from Eight smiles. "Of course."

They go on like that for a while, and I assume that Caesar's going to play the sympathy card and try to get the boy to talk about his crippled leg, but he doesn't.

"So, have you enjoyed the Capitol?" Caesar asks swiftly.

"Oh, yes," the boy says. "It's wonderful here. Everything is so fancy and the Training Center is amazing."

"What has been your favorite part about living here these past few days?" Caesars asks.

The boy from Eight smiles deviously at the audience and handles his answer like it's nothing but an offhand comment. "Oh, I'd have to say my favorite part has been the other tributes and all the drama they've stirred up."

My heart stops. Here it comes. This is when my reputation gets torn down before my very eyes. This is the moment when I lose my chance to secure sponsors.

Caesar turns and winks at the audience. "What drama?" he asks.

"I won't go into much detail," the boy from Eight says. For a second, I think he's going to spare me, but of course that's too much to ask. "However, I will tell you that most of it surrounds District Twelve's Katniss Everdeen."

That's when I really think my heart stops beating. I know all the cameras are glued to me now, waiting for my response. I try my best to pull off a look of complete shock because that's the only thing that can save me now. I start to mouth, "What? He's lying!" but I soon realize that it's pointless when I feel the stares burning into the sides of my face.

Out of my peripheral vision, I can see that Marvel, Cato, Thresh, and Peeta are all glaring at me with fierce hate, and it's all I can do not to crumble.

/

_Mrs. Everdeen looks shocked. Her hand creeps up to her mouth as she watches her daughter on the screen. Katniss adamantly denies that any scandal has arisen, but we can all see the slight blush of her cheeks that gives it away. _

_She's done something. _

_I have to marvel at the nerve of the boy from Eight. Most of the drama that occurs in the Capitol is hushed up, and this kid could be seriously endangering himself by putting this out there. He could be endangering Katniss as well. _

"_Would you please elaborate?" Caesar asks, reigning in the audience once again. He smiles and leans closer to the boy from Eight, like they're sharing a secret, just the two of them. _

_The boy from Eight smiles a cunning smile. "I won't say much… Let's just say that I caught Katniss doing something on an elevator with one of the four guys glaring at her right now." _

_The camera flips away from them once again and focuses on the line of tributes again. The heads of several male tributes snap away from Katniss to stare at the cameras. District One, District Two, District Eleven, and our very own Peeta Mellark. In between them, Katniss has turned bright red. _

_All five of them start denying it. "Nothing happened!" they all mouth at the camera. Katniss keeps insisting that it's a lie, but no one seems to believe her. _

_She doesn't fool _me_, anyway. But the fact that she's done something with another guy to stir up drama does throw me for a loop. Catnip, who has never once shown interest in a guy ever, is suddenly throwing herself to four guys. It never occurred to me that she would ever want to be with a guy— she could've been lesbian for all I would've known. We've never spent time analyzing each other's personal lives… until I started dating Tulip. Then, suddenly Katniss was interested. Just like I'm interested now. _

_Why? That's my question about those last two thoughts. Why are we both suddenly interested? I think back to my mother and Tulip both bringing up the fact that Katniss might be jealous, and that makes me even more confused. _

_That would imply that _I_ am jealous. Which I'm not. _

_The crowd is in such hysterics over this whole thing that Caesar isn't able to pull them back in before the boy from Eight's time is up. The boy seems satisfied, though, and walks off stage like he's just had the most legendary interview in Hunger Games history. He's basking in the drama he just stirred up. _

_However, his confidence seems to dissipate a little when he sees that the four largest male tributes are staring him down. The camera flashes to Katniss for a second, and she catches the boy from Eight's eyes. She gives him a deadly look and mouths, "I will kill you." The cameras flash away before she makes a gesture at her throat. _

_Caesars smiles excitedly out at the audience. "Don't you just wish we could call up some tributes together to get the full story, but rules are rules!"_

_I'm still reeling because Katniss's death threat just makes it seem like this whole drama thing is true. God, why would Katniss suddenly throw herself to all these guys?_

_I suppose one would get rather desperate if one's life was on the line. _

_That thought repulses me— that Katniss would want to be with as many guys as possible before her life is threatened. That makes me feel sick. I am filled with a sudden desire to grab Katniss and scream at her for all of this, but that's impossible. She's locked away in the Capitol where I can't see her. _

_Where I can't go all protective-older-brother on her. _

_Where I can't save her anymore. _

_/_

My only distraction from my embarrassment and panic is the fact that Rue does really well with Caesar. Since she reminds me so much of Prim, I find comfort in the fact that her interview goes well because it means she has a chance at sponsors. She's naturally sweet, and that at least calms the audience down a little. She tells Caesar not to "count her out", and he says that he would never consider it.

That comfort is short-lived because Thresh takes the stage next, and the intense murmuring in the crowd takes up again. Undoubtedly, he will be asked about his involvement in this scandal, and the attention will fall back on me.

Thresh doesn't smile as he walks onto the stage. He doesn't shake Caesar's hand; he doesn't act charming. I must say, I am jealous of his ability to get away with that act.

"So, Thresh, what was your life like in District Eleven?" Caesar asks. It's hard not to notice the use of the past tense.

"Good," Thresh replies. Everyone waits for more, but that's his answer. And he gets away with it.

That's basically how the beginning of his interview goes. Caesar asks a question, and Thresh gives a one word reply. It's getting almost boring to listen to when Caesar finally pulls out the question everyone's waiting for.

"So, Thresh, we're dying to know," he says, grinning from ear to ear. "Was it you and Miss Everdeen in the elevator?"

And the attention is back to me. Haymitch probably just left to get a drink.

"No," Thresh replies in a tight voice.

The cameras are all on me when the buzzer goes off for the end of his interview. Thresh gives me a withered look as he takes his seat, and I know that's my cue to go on stage.

They're calling my name.

I've never been more nervous in my life. The sponsors could already have lost interest in me, thinking that I'm not worth anything now that I'm just stirring up drama. This interview is going to have to be _perfect_.

Then, it's like someone else takes over my body, and I walk up to the stage with all the grace in the world. My legs don't shake. I don't trip. My dress sparkles, and so does my smile. I shake Caesar's hand. He smiles. We sit.

"So Katniss, the Capitol must be quite a difference from home, right?" Caesar asks. "What have you enjoyed the most?"

I search out Cinna's face in the audience, and I give a genuine smile. "I'd have to say the toothpaste," I say with sweet honesty. It gets a chuckle from the audience, and that gives me confidence. "And the chocolate molten lava cake! I've been ordering it like crazy from the kitchens!"

Caesar and the audience laugh. _Really _laugh.

"Now, Katniss, when you came out on that chariot at the parade, I think my heart stopped. Did anyone else feel that way?" Caesar addresses the audience and gets a roar of assent from everyone in the room.

I giggle, actually giggle— something I've done maybe _never_ in my life— and smile genuinely, "Did you really? I felt the same way!"

I look at Cinna again. He mouths, "_Keep going. Gush."_

I turn to Caesar and take his hand, "I simply couldn't believe that I was wearing something that beautiful! Cinna, my stylist, is just wonderful. He made me feel great! I mean, look at this dress."

The audience swoons and cries. I run my hands down the length of my jeweled gown, and Cinna twirls his fingers in a circle. _Twirl for me_.

I turn back towards Caesar and lean in. "Caesar, do you want to see something amazing?" I ask excitedly.

"Of course," Caesar says genially.

I get to my feet, and the whole room falls into silence. And then I twirl. I twirl and I twirl and I twirl. The skirt of my dress fans out, and flames (yes, real flames) engulf me. For a couple dizzying seconds, I am the girl on fire one again. Not the girl who stirred up scandal.

I stop spinning and clutch at Caesar's arm, a drunken smile forming on my face. My head spins, and the audience tilts at alarming angles, but a laugh escapes my lips.

"Oh, don't stop!" Caesar says brightly.

I laugh, giggle. "I'm so dizzy!"

Caesar laughs. I laugh. The Gamemakers laugh. The audience laughs.

I teeter a little, and Caesar puts his arm around me, lowering me back into my seat. "I've got you. It's alright," he says.

I sit down, still beaming.

"So, how about your training score!" Caesar says, redirecting the interview. "An E-lev-en!"

The audience goes wild, and I am filled with another rush of confidence. I wonder if I've distracted them completely yet.

"Tell us, Katniss! What did you do?" Caesar asks.

I smile slightly teasingly. "I'm not allowed to say.

"Oh, you're killing us! Details!"

"My lips are sealed," I say. "But I definitely think what I did was a first!"

The audience cheers, and I wonder if my time it almost up. It seems like I've been on stage for an eternity.

"Fine, we'll talk about something else," Caesar says. "The Reaping… You were the first volunteer in District Twelve in a long time. Tell us why you volunteered, would you?"

I pause a moment. It could seem like I'm just taking a moment to sort through my feelings, but I'm really just trying to think of an appropriate answer. The truth would be that I just want Gale to be happy, but that definitely would not fly in the Capitol. I guess I'll have to go for vague again, just like I did at the reaping.

"Like I said at the reaping… It was too hard for me to watch my friend suffer," I say. I see Gale behind my eyelids every time I blink, and it makes me feel sick. "I… I wouldn't have been able to live with myself if I hadn't volunteered."

Caesar shakes his head sympathetically. "It was such an emotionally charged reaping… We were all feeling for you, dear."

"Thank you, Caesar," I say, looking down at my feet for effect. "I was just so scared…"

"Well, you definitely have a chance of winning, my dear," he says gently.

"Thank you," I say. A smile graces my lips. "You're so kind."

He smiles, and I smile back, but all I can see is Gale and Blondey.

Caesar's mood changes immediately. He looks at me suggestively, and I start to panic. My heart rate picks up, and I pray that the timer will go off. I had almost gotten away without talking about this scandal, and now it'll be my closer for sure.

"I simply must ask…" Caesar says roguishly. "What is all this drama that's been talked about?"

I force the blush away from my face, and my mind whirs. A million answers fly through my head— answers to cover up and hide all this scandal. But then I glance out at the audience, and they're hanging on the silence with bated breath. It occurs to me that maybe this drama isn't such a bad thing. It has them interested… Maybe they'll like me more now because I'm stirring the pot.

A tinkling laugh falls from my lips without permission. "Oh, Caesar," I say in a flirtatious voice. "That's a secret!"

He smiles, leaning towards me. "You can share it with me! I can keep a secret!"

I laugh again, and it sounds like bells. My mouth opens to give another elusive response, but the buzzer cuts me off. I am filled with instant relief, but I try not to let it show, for the act's sake.

Caesar looks disappointed. "How I wish we had more time!"

"Oh, me, too!" I reply. "It was wonderful!"

He smiles thankfully and stands up, taking my hand. "Katniss Everdeen of District 12!"

The applause is deafening. I take my seat, basking in the glory.

/

_I don't know how to react. _

_I have a hard time believing that that was Katniss Everdeen on stage and not some Capitol robot. She is completely unlike herself in every possible way, and she is wholly unreadable. Her charm, her smile, her demeanor. It all seems so natural but so very alien. _

_Nothing about her interview seemed forced, but I know for a fact that most of it was the most fake, high glossed lies that I have ever heard. _

_There are parts that I wouldn't doubt (such as her enjoying the cake and the toothpaste), but the rest of it… It was like Effie Trinket was feeding her lines._

_She wasn't Katniss. _

_I know she was just playing the game, like any sane tribute would do, but it makes me feel like I've lost her. Like they're already forcing her to be the pawn. Like even if she comes home alive, my Katniss Everdeen will be gone forever. _

_Especially when she answered Caesar's question about the scandal by saying, "That's a secret!" with the most uncharacteristic giggles that sound alien coming out of her mouth. Either Katniss was putting up a really big act for some stupid strategy, or she really has lost it enough to stir up drama for the sake of fun. _

_When she twirled and giggled for them, I just felt sad._

_When she started talking about the reaping, it ached. _

_No one else could possibly know the true reason why Katniss volunteered, and, for that fleeting moment, I had the real Katniss back. The superficial Capitol citizens would never have seen the fragility of that moment, but I know Katniss well enough to see the disguised truth. In a way, she was admitting that it would've killed her to see me hurt, and my heart sunk into my stomach. _

_And now she's taking her seat again, and I'm left to wonder whether that interview went well or not. The Capitol is cheering so loudly for her that I have to force myself to think that it went well. At least the sponsors are interested in her. _

_Before I can put any more thought into that, Peeta Mellark is taking the stage. He is confident and charming, and it's much less of an act for him. He actually seems totally natural after Katniss's complete fakeness. _

_They begin the interview with Peeta telling a story about the perils of the Capitol showers and how they compare to home. The audience can't get enough of him when he asks Caesar if he smells like roses. After that, the audience is laughing hysterically, and they're completely enthralled. Caesar asks Peeta what it's like to work in the bakery back home, and Peeta talks about icing the cakes and how the frosting "talks" to him. Everyone starts laughing again._

_When Caesar finally composes himself again, he asks Peeta the strangest question. "Peeta, is there a special girl at home?"_

_Peeta laughs awkwardly and shakes his head. "No."_

"_Surely, a handsome boy like you has several girls after him!" Caesar says teasingly. "So, tell me, Peeta, who's the special girl?"_

_Peeta looks down into his lap for a moment and then says, "There is _one_ girl. I've liked her for a long time, but I don't think she noticed me until the Reaping…"_

_Caesar and the audience sigh in sympathy, swooning at his feet, but just about everyone else knows it's just a sob story to make the rich people of the Capitol feel sorry for him. _

"_Well, you need to win for her, don't you?" Caesar says emphatically. _

_Peeta lets out a sheepish, half-hearted laugh. "I don't think winning will help in my case."_

"_Well, of course it will!" Caesar says. "She'll see how strong and powerful you are, Peeta! You need to win for her!" _

"_No because…" Peeta trails off, turning red. "Well, you see… she came here with me."_

_It takes everyone less than half a second to realize who he's talking about. _

_My own heart seems to stop for a second. The universe seems to be crashing out of order completely now since I have obviously lost all control over anything that happens to Katniss._

_I've always been protective of Katniss since she's practically my sister, but I've never had to deal with guys going after her before. She's a thousand miles away now where I can reach out and protect her from going after the wrong guys._

_Peeta can't have feelings for Katniss. _

_He can't, but for the life of me, I can't come up with any reasons why. I know nothing about Peeta Mellark except for the sole fact that he's going die within the next week or so— but shouldn't that be reason enough to keep Katniss away from him?_

_In some corner of my mind, it occurs to me that I could be jealous that Peeta actually has a chance. _

_That thought is so strange and repulsive, but it fits so well. But I can't possibly be jealous. That wouldn't make any sense—_

"_Oh, Peeta," Caesar says over the panic of the audience. "That's… such bad luck." _

"_Yeah," Peeta sighs. He looks at his feet. _

"_She didn't know until now?" Caesar asks. There's actual concern in his voice._

"_No, she knew before," Peeta says quietly. "We…"_

_The camera finally finds Katniss's face in the line of tributes. Her mouth is slightly opened, and she looks completely shocked. Her reaction doesn't seem to fit with what Peeta just said about her knowing before, but it could just be the shock of him outing all of this. _

_Or maybe she doesn't love him back._

_Caesar's mood changes immediately. "Does this have anything to do with the drama that's circling?" _

_Peeta looks up at Caesar shyly. "Yes… I… I kissed Katniss last night on the elevator." _

_I feel slightly dead inside when he says that, but the way he phrased the sentence seems odd. He made it very clear that the actions were his, not necessarily Katniss's. _

_The camera's back on Katniss in an instant, and a deep blush passes over her face (something that almost never happens to her). She buries her face in her hands, and my hope of her not returning the feelings are dashed._

_It's true, then. She likes him back._

_Something constricts in my chest. There's almost no chance for star-crossed lovers in the Hunger Games. This will weaken Katniss in the arena. It will make her vulnerable because she'll want to protect Peeta…_

"_What?" Prim asks in disbelief. _

_I want to tell her to be quiet, even though there's nothing happening on screen. Caesar can't control the audience since they're over the moon about the explanation of the scandal. _

_The buzzer sounds after a couple failed attempts at reigning in the audience, and Caesar says goodbye to Peeta. My best friend's supposed boyfriend makes his way back to his seat in the line. All the tributes stand as soon as he's back, and they begin to file back towards the Training Center. _

_Even though every tribute should be given equal camera time, the camera never leaves Katniss. She's firmly facing away from Peeta, and I see a fierce sort of resolve in her eyes that at least says she wasn't okay with their relationship being announced on camera. She matches her fiery dress now, and it all seems much more natural. _

"_She's beautiful," Prim says quietly, watching the screen in awe._

_An answer falls out of my mouth without permission. "Yeah… she is." _

_At first, that doesn't seem odd, but then we both seem to realize that that was a bit of a strange answer coming from me. Prim looks up at me, slightly puzzled. _

"_We're friends," I say, trying to seem as though my answer wasn't startling to me as well. "I'm allowed to say that." _

_Prim accepts that easily and shrugs. She turns back to look at the television just as the screen goes blank. The room sort of deflates as soon as it goes black, and I sink back in my seat, letting out a harsh breath. Everyone else sort of remains still, processing what just happened on screen. _

_My mom, however, turns and looks at me. She raises an eyebrow, a slight smirk on her face. _

Jealous? _she asks without words. _

No. _I reply, and I stand up to leave before she can gather otherwise._

* * *

_A/N: How'd you like? Sorry it took so long to get this one up... We'll try to be better about that. As usual, thanks for reviewing and all that jazz! You guys are great. We really appreciate it_


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